Becoming One
by nelliesbones
Summary: He is handsome, she is beautiful, and somewhere in between… they have made a baby. Warm-hearted and M for a reason. Slightly spoiler-y AN's, the story itself is spoilerfree. Now complete.
1. A Night

BECOMING ONE

"_Why? I'll tell you why. Here we are. All of us are basically alone, separate creatures just circling each other. All searching for that slightest hint of a real connection. Some look in the wrong places, some, they just give up hope because in their mind they're thinking, 'Oh, there's nobody out there for me.' But all of us, we keep trying over and over again. Why? Because every once in a while, every once in a while, two people meet, and there's that spark. And yes Bones, he's handsome. And she's beautiful. And maybe that's all they see at first... But making love? Making. Love. That's when two people become one. "_

I. A Night

Three minutes, three minutes that would decide her fate. Not that she believed in fate. Taking a deep breath, Brennan regarded the little white stripe in her hands. It was so tiny, so nondescript but held so much power over her life.

Three minutes.

Closing her eyes, the scientist in her piped up, throwing in that the result didn't depend on those one hundred eighty seconds but rather on some other minutes, life-changing moments which had taken place four weeks ago to a night when her whole world had been shaken and she had found hold alone in her partner's arms.

A night when he had touched her.

Casting a glance at her watch, she tried to calm her revolting stomach. This wasn't planned, wasn't planned at all. For years they had danced around each other, so close that it had almost burned them more than once. And then, then it _had_ actually burned them, and it had hurt so much.

The scars had been painful, had healed slowly, and then they had ripped them open all over again. But they had set a date, had been back on track. The center had held again and healing, real healing had started. This outcome could endanger everything, change the careful path they had been on...

Temperance Brennan was nowhere near stupid, but in that night nothing but feeling him had been meaningful. How could such an important thing like birth control have slipped her mind? How could she have been so weak?

A baby! Was she ready for a baby? Were _they_ ready? Everything was still so new, so fragile. She felt as if she had just learned how to walk, and now somebody wanted to send her on a race.

A baby... Something inside of her shifted, a feeling which told her that if it had to happen, she was glad that it had at least happened with him. There had been times when she had longed for a child, and truth be told, it had always been _his_ child. But now? Now just didn't seem right...

One quick glance told her that she had another minute to wait, and, closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around herself, and her mind traveled back in time...

-BONES-

Four weeks earlier...

The alarm was wrong. In that innocent moment between sleep and wake, Temperance Brennan did not know why, but she knew that the alarm didn't sound right.

Then something next to her moved, the mattress shifted, the disturbing noise stopped... and everything came back. Out of the oblivion of sleep she fell into reality, fell into a life that had been taken, a line that had been crossed. A shocked gasp escaped her lips, and suddenly warm hands were on her shoulders, shaking her gently.

"No reason to panic. Just breathe, Bones, breathe. Please..."

His voice, so familiar and so raspy new at the same time soothed her somehow, and clear air filled her lungs as she inhaled deeply.

"That's my girl," he murmured, "just breathe."

The shaking had stopped, and now Booth was drawing slow patterns over the uncovered skin of her arms.

"Oh my God," she whispered, and with eyes still firmly shut, she heard his low chuckle.

"Just 'Booth' would have been enough."

Rolling her eyes with closed lids was kind of hard, she realized, and finally Brennan dared to lift her eyelids. The face she knew so well filled her vision, except that... she had never seen it that close, not in the early morning after a shared night. Not like this.

Blinking against the heaviness of sleep, Brennan let her gaze roam over his face. His brown orbs looked warm, but she could find a hunch of insecurity in them. His cheeks were shadowed with dark stubble, his lips kiss-swollen.

Something inside of her clenched and softened at the realization, and she lifted a tentative hand to cup his cheek. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her palm, letting go of a relieved sigh.

"Hi Booth," she finally said, and he rubbed his rough cheek against the softness of her skin.

"Good morning, Bones."

His fingers slipped from her shoulder down her body, grazing her skin, and stopped right at her lower back, as if he was unsure about his right to touch her, and truth be told... she didn't know either.

Right in front of her she could see his bare chest, strong and muscular, and the moment was full of intimacy they hadn't known so far. It was... almost awkward.

She remembered sucking those nipples, licking that same skin, and her stomach fluttered at the vivid images in her mind. Unable to resist the strong pull, she gravitated towards his body, and just like last night his arms opened for her without resistance, enveloping her in his very own kind of warmth. His chin rested on top of her head, and when he nuzzled his nose in her hair, she had to smile.

Last night, between tears and kisses, he had said something about her scent, how it called out to him, how he would recognize it among hundreds of others. He had said more, and she hadn't been able to memorize it, but it had touched her in its sweet perfection.

Cradled by his strong arms, her cheek pressed to his chest in this morning that was so new, she understood what he had been talking about because it was just the same for her. It was a feeling of belonging, stronger than everything she had ever experienced in her whole life.

Once the universe had spoken to her, had caused her to stop mid-track, forced her to reevaluate her path. It had been world-shattering, but even those days of upside-down hadn't prepared her for what she was feeling right now. They were way past the crossroads, had changed tracks with the speed of light...

"It's okay," he tried to calm her, unsure if calming was necessary, and she stayed with her face burrowed in the safety of his strong body for a few more heartbeats.

"Bones, last night..."

He tried to muster his courage, but she cut him off.

"Don't say it has been a mistake."

The words tumbled out of her mouth as a plea before she could think, and Brennan was surprised how much she wanted it to be not a mistake. He could crush her with his words, and the epiphany made her dizzy for a moment. Had it been just like this for him, back then on the steps of the Hoover Building?

"No! Never..."

His arms around her tightened, rocking her gently.

"No mistake, Baby, no. You don't think it was a mistake, then?"

What did she think?

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder.

"Let me think for a moment."

He chuckled again, his hands resuming their caress on her back.

"You used to be quicker."

"That was before something blew my mind," she uttered, and he felt a strange tingle in his insides.

After a few more moments she opened her eyes again, lifting her head.

"It has been unexpected, but not a mistake. The moment might have been... not so wisely chosen, but I find that no part of me could possibly rue being with you like this."

Tapping her chin, he held her gaze.

"You liked it?" he asked on a whisper, and she answered equally seriously.

"Last night... I think you saved me, Booth."

She saw something in his brown depths crumbling at her words, and her eyes widened as she noticed a curtain of moisture clouding his vision.

"Oh, Booth..."

Shaking his head, he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"I didn't save you more than you saved me."

"Come here," she offered, pulling him closer into her embrace, and then her lips fluttered over his as soft as a butterfly's wing.

"You okay?"

He nodded, struggling with emotions.

"That should be my line."

"I'm sad," she admitted with her typical child-like honesty, "but I'm here."

"Step by step. We will get up, have a shower, eat breakfast, find a killer, survive the day."

"Survive the day..."

"I promise, Bones. I will not let him hurt us again. I won't let him do any harm to you."

"It's not me I'm worried about, Booth."

Her pale blue eyes bore into his, as she let him read her. Lifting a slow hand, he traced the contours of her rosy lips with his fingers.

"I will be fine, Bones."

One more fierce hug, and then they had to leave the cocoon of his bed, had to end their very first night. Had to find a killer. Because time... it had only stopped for one of them...

-BONES-

The skull was white.

It was a ridiculous statement, but holding the cranium in her gloved hands, Brennan couldn't really bring herself to think past "white".

It was dead as well, but that realization even topped the ridiculousness of the first one.

She was the best forensic anthropologist in the world, and if it hadn't been so damn unfunny, Brennan would have laughed at the two tiny words dancing in her head. Dead. White.

She had left Booth's bed naked this morning. Alone in his bathroom, she had studied her own reflection in the mirror. On the wings of a nightingale everything had changed, and even though she knew perfectly well that there would be no trace of change palpable in her appearance, she had to look for it.

A tiny sensation had ripped her out of her contemplation, the slight discomfort of damp thighs, moisture dripping out of her. 'Oh my God,' she had thought, her knuckles white where her fists had been holding his sink in a vice-like grip, as one more thing she hadn't considered overwhelmed her.

Forcing her attention back to the skull in her hands, Brennan tried not to dwell on the fact that they hadn't used any protection, that somewhere inside of her body Booth's seed had mingled with her own fluids. Compartmentalize... she had always been so good at it. After all, it was highly unlikely that something had happened. The skull was white... There were fractures she should examine microscopically.

Shifting her weight, she was greeted by a strange ache in her lower belly. The soreness was as expected; it had been a long time since she had been with a man. Before Booth. 'Oh my God, I have slept with Booth.' The magnitude of what they had done hit her with a sudden rush, and then she was back in his bed, back under his impressive frame. So solid but so warm.

He had been gentle, careful not to hurt her, but his sheer physical strength had mesmerized her. His body moving inside of her... it had been the biggest thing she had ever experienced, and she had felt so fragile but so utterly whole with him. He hadn't only slept with her; he had worshipped her like no other man had ever done before, all the time holding her gaze, and she had known it with every part of her being, known that he was touching so much more than just her body alone.

And when her contractions had begun, when she had trembled and cried in his arms, she hadn't been afraid to fall because all the time he had been holding her, lifting and grounding her at the same time. Then his own world had splintered, and the pure devotion on his face had her weeping all over again.

It had been so beautiful. _They_ had been...

He had held her in his arms afterwards, his racing heartbeat close to her ear, a loud kind of silence covering them. It had felt as if he had been trying very hard not to speak, and if she hadn't been so damn drained, she would have told him that there was no need to hold back, that she could take it. She hadn't said it, though, and he had stayed silent.

Holding the _dead_ – alternating the two adjectives she could come up with was at least something – skull in her hand, Brennan wondered if she would have been strong enough to take it. It felt impossible that there were words that could articulate the things his eyes and his kisses had whispered about. But if there were any words... how big would their impact be?

The skull was white.

Angela waddling into the room tore her out of her reverie, and Brennan tried to hide her feelings. Unfortunately, Angela had never been very good at being fooled, and then the scientist disappeared for real, and she was just a woman talking to her best friend.

"I got into bed with Booth last night."

Angela's mouth opened, but no words came out, and Brennan fidgeted anxiously.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Because I don't want to yell 'Hallelujah' so close to losing Vincent."

"I think I did it because of Vincent."

"Well, whoa, what exactly happened after you... after you crawled into bed with Booth?"

Friendly comfort. And... tender kisses, throaty moans, low sighs, desperate need... There were so many things to say, and as her mind tried to put the possible answers in order, her face lit up in a grin that told so much more than any word ever could. It was only a little bit smug, but the smugness increased, as her best friend looked as if she had won the lottery.

Brennan almost missed Hodgins entering the scene, but Angela's voice brought her back to reality.

"Honey, no! Not right now. I'm sorry. I love you, but go tell Cam. Go! Away!"

Feeling kind of sorry for the curly-haired scientist, Brennan gave him an apologetic glance with just a hint of shame in it, but Angela knew no mercy.

"Away!" she yelled one last time, and her distraught husband had finally vanished.

"Tell me, Brennan, now. I want it short, I want it quick, I want it juicy. This baby could come every day now, and if my water breaks before you finish your story, I'll blame you forever for my child's trauma to be born next to a rotten skeleton."

"It's white," Brennan tried, but Angela looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"What happened?"

Short. Quick. Juicy. Juicy?

"I do not understand the juicy part, but last night I had sex with Booth."

Brennan flinched at the loud squeal her friend released.

"That cannot be good for the baby."

"Sweetie, me dancing on the table right now wouldn't be good for the baby, I'm already compromising. How? Why? How are you feeling?"

"How?" Brennan arched an eyebrow at her friend, and Angela gave her an incredulous glance.

"I stayed at his apartment last night. I cried, and he held me. I," Brennan shrugged almost helplessly, "I cannot even tell you how exactly it happened, but suddenly kissing Booth seemed so very right. And after I had kissed him once..."

Her voice trailed off, and Angela had to sigh at the dreamy shimmer in her friend's eyes.

"He rocked your world?"

"Yes," Brennan whispered almost reverently, an adorable blush covering her cheeks. "I have never felt like this before. It has been... just amazing. I understand the term 'mind-blowing' now."

Chuckling, Angela rounded the table and tried to hug Brennan despite the enormous belly between them.

"I'm so glad. How are you feeling now?"

"Confused, but full somehow."

Wrinkling her nose, Brennan tried to think about a better word.

"I feel as if I belong to him."

"Oh, Sweetie, I've told you for years that you belong to Booth."

"I know. Maybe you have been right."

Once again, Angela had lost her ability to speak.

"I have to mark that day in my calendar," she finally uttered. "What now? Are you a real couple?"

Insecurity washed over Brennan's face, and she stepped backwards, gaining a few inches of space.

"We haven't really talked about it."

Closing her eyes, Angela took a deep breath.

"Promise me you won't backpedal again."

Remembering the perfect rightness of being in his arms, Brennan gave her worried friend a warm smile.

"I won't. I don't want to have any regrets, Angela. This is my chance."

The artist seemed to be choked with emotion.

"I love you, Brenn, you know that, right? You just made me very happy."

Laughing out loud, Brennan accepted one more hug.

"I love you, too, Angela. And I want to thank you for both your persistence and your faith."

Her best friend's words were soft and sweet in her hair.

"You're so welcome. Sweetie, you will be very happy. Just let him love you. Let him open your car door every once in a while, and rub his feet while he watches a game on TV."

"That's it? The big secret to make a relationship work?"

"Did I mention awesome sex?"

Angela could feel the giggles that rippled through Brennan's body.

"I doubt that the latter will be a problem."

"It is really true? You had sex with Booth."

"Yes," Brennan whispered, and once again the truth dazed her.

Angela sniffled, and her voice was huskier than usual.

"You wanna go back to staring at your skull now?"

"It is white," Brennan answered equally touched, and then both women were shedding a few happy tears. One of them could blame it on pregnancy hormones, the other one... on plain hormones.

Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth had had sex. Engaged in sexual intercourse. Made love. Rocked each other's world – there were a lot of ways to declare it, but none of them changed the simple truth.

They had done it.

To be continued...

_Is anybody able to say something besides "Oh my God"? *taking a deep breath* So, this is my hiatus story. Part of it feels as if I've already written it a hundred times, and the other part is one thing I am so not ready to write. I've never been pregnant, what can I tell you about the amazing feeling of little life growing inside of you? So far I'm just operating on faith here, and all I can ask for is: Trust me that I won't ruin this story. Bring on the hiatus..._


	2. A Dance

_First of all I have to say thank you. To my lovely friend dreamingahead who encouraged me to write a story outside of my comfort zone. To NatesMama who provided me with insights about being pregnant and answered questions I almost didn't dare to ask in the first place. To all of you for following this story. I still don't know how far along the pregnancy I will write, though._

II. A Dance

Angela Montenegro Hodgins was sad. Inside of her new life was growing, but in front of them someone she had laughed with was lying in a simple wooden casket and would never laugh again. Rubbing her belly absentmindedly, she sang along with the others. Put the lime in the coconut.

Her best friend was standing right in front of her. It was surprisingly hard to believe and not hard at all that Brennan had finally slept with Booth. It had been years in the making, and with every month that had passed and they hadn't crossed that line, it had gotten bigger somehow.

Now it was huge.

Angela vowed to herself that she would do her best to make sure that her friend wouldn't back out again. The baby shifted inside of her, and then something else shifted as Angela observed how Brennan linked arms with her partner. It was Brennan initiating the contact, and the gesture was full of tentativeness but oh so trustful. Booth's head tilted, as he was looking down to where her hands were wrapped around his arm. Almost as if he had to ensure that it was really true.

Despite the melancholy of the moment, a smile played around the artist's lips. Maybe no help was needed. Maybe the two would make it on their own...

Saying that linking arms with Booth was as natural as breathing wouldn't be correct. Utterly romantic, maybe even a little bit corny, but plain wrong. Physical contact... it used to be so easy, so subconscious between the two of them, but the natural easiness had vanished. Because it meant something.

Calming her racing heartbeat, Brennan felt his strong muscles underneath the clothes. They were tense, telling her that to him it meant something as well.

Step by step, hug by hug, fight by fight she had given up her imperviousness. It had made her strong, but it had made her weak as well. A few years ago she had buried herself in work when Booth had died. Had locked the dire certainty of never hearing his voice again away in a distant corner of her mind and had moved on. Maybe it would have broken her eventually, but back then there had still been a part of her that couldn't be touched.

Now there weren't parts anymore; they had summed up to a whole, and she wasn't immune against the emotions. The sadness of loss. The warm feeling of belonging. The desire to be comforted.

She needed Booth, but Brennan assumed that it was okay, maybe even wanted. She needed to be close to him, feel him next to her. She needed his eyes, his voice telling her that everything would be okay. She needed his arms around her. She needed to give him just the same feeling of safety.

Brennan had learned that someone had to be quite strong to show weakness, that after a rainy day the sun would shine again. She had learned that tears could be kissed away.

The song faded out as the black car drove around the corner until it was gone. Upon silent agreement they turned as well, following their friends inside. Walking arm in arm with Booth, Brennan rested her head on his shoulder, and his head tilted until his cheek made contact with her hair, touching her gently. Because longing and belonging... for them it had never been a one-way-street.

The rest of the evening was spent with anecdotes about their beloved squintern. A bottle of strong Scotch was circling, only bypassing Angela, and even the pregnant woman regarded the golden spirit with longing eyes. Unable to stand an inch of space between them, Booth and Brennan sat very close together on the couch, and every once in a while a meaningful glance was shared, but it stayed unnoticed by anyone but Angela.

After all, the two partners had always been close, and their friends had stopped questioning it long ago. In this night full of wistfulness and farewell it felt only natural to seek the comfort of another warm body, the sound of breaths, the spark of life in the other one's eyes.

Hodgins was the first to rise, and Angela wrapped an arm around her unsteady husband, giving Brennan one last smile. Cam and Sweets followed shortly after, deciding to share a cab. With their friends gone, the lab felt colder somehow, and Booth and Brennan remained on their couch, no words passing between them, only a bottle.

He could smell the perfume on her warm skin, and closing his eyes, Booth surrendered himself to the intimately familiar sensation of her scent. Then the bottle was back in his hands, and he took a healthy swig.

With a sigh her head fell to his shoulder once more, and his heart opened in perfect synchrony with his arm, as he slipped it around her. She was warm and soft on his shoulder, always heavier than you'd think she would be, but her weight made it even more real. She wasn't a fragile doll, she was... well, she just was.

"I knew you'd catch him."

"Can I hear faith in your voice?" he teased in a futile attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yes," came her candid reply.

"You're neither denying nor rationalizing it?"

His eyes widened in incredulousness.

"No."

"Oh, Bones..."

His voice trailed off as he handed the bottle over to her, and she yawned before taking a sip.

"Maybe we should go home."

He could feel her tired nod.

"But where to?" she whispered.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Bones... Temperance... I know we kind of rushed it, and maybe we should take it slow, do it right, but... I really need to stay with you tonight. I cannot stand the idea of you being alone right now, and I don't want to be alone myself. Please... will you let me stay?"

The bottle still in her left hand, Brennan wrapped her right arm around his stomach and nuzzled up to him even further.

"Yes, I... I want you to stay."

He pushed some strands out of her pale face, tucking them behind her ear.

"Let's call a cab."

"Okay."

Over the years he had seen her hailing many cabs. Sometimes he had just waved goodbye, his mind still on their last case, but there had been occasions when she had left him, taking an essential part of him with her. Once he had been very close to sharing a cab with her, but then again, they had often been very close to something.

He had slept with her.

Sometimes it was still so hard to believe, felt so dreamlike, but Booth could still see her uncovered alabaster-white body in his arms. Could still hear her soft sighs, her pleading voice to move faster. Could remember how her eyes had darkened, her mouth had opened in a silent gasp when she had come undone beneath him. The energy and passion that had consumed his body in that very moment had been so unlike everything Booth had ever experienced before, and even he who had always believed in the possibility of two people becoming one had been taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the experience.

It had been a night full of raw emotions and weakness, it hadn't been the moment he had always envisioned for their first time, but somehow... somehow being with Brennan could never be less than amazing and plain right, never be less than... making love.

Entering her body had felt like one inevitable step on a path they had begun walking a very long time ago, and when her silky walls had gripped him in the most intimate caress ever, he had seen images of her fresh and young face back then.

_Do you believe it fate?_

He still did, and moving inside of her, he had known how right he had been all the time. Every lonely night, every pang of jealousy, every painful step backwards – it had been worth it. Because in the end he was the one she trusted enough to show her tears, he was the one her eyes sought over a crowded room. He was the one she had risked her imperviousness for.

And, hell, it made him feel so damn special.

Booth wasn't a fool, he knew that he was head over heels in love with Temperance Brennan, that there was rarely a thing in this world he would not do for her. Except for maybe one thing... because risking his heart again was the only thing he had been reluctant about the last weeks.

He wasn't oblivious, had noticed her changes, her struggles, her efforts. Of course it had affected him, but he hadn't been sure if he could ever be strong enough to risk losing her again.

Maybe it had been another twist of fate, maybe it just revealed a lot about his character, but it was significant that in the end, when everything had changed for real, it hadn't been about his pain but about hers.

And he had taken her in his arms because there hadn't been a way how he could _not_ have done it.

Tonight he shared that cab with her. Her cold and tiny hand was holding his as she gave her address to the driver, as they drove through the empty streets. Her apartment was as dark as the dull pain of loss that was still hanging above them like a heavy cloud. But she was there, and he was there, and that made it bearable somehow.

Without making fuss about it, Brennan led him to her bedroom, gesturing towards the bathroom, asking if he needed anything.

She was already in bed when he emerged some minutes later, clad in his boxers and one of his own shirts that had ended up at her place somehow. Brennan was wearing a pale top and a weak smile, and when he got into bed beside her, it took him only a heartbeat to reach out to her.

The sheets rustled as she accepted his invitation, nuzzling up to him, and it felt as if she could breathe properly for the first time in hours when his strong, warm arms closed around her.

"We have made it," she whispered, and even though he didn't know if she was talking about them or Broadsky, Booth knew that she was right.

"Yeah," he answered, his palm rubbing her shoulder in light circles.

"Where do we go from here?"

He let go of a long sigh.

"Tomorrow it is Saturday. We will wake up in the light of a new day, have breakfast, and then I have Parker for the afternoon. And then... maybe you'd like to go out with me in the evening?"

"As in a date?" she asked on a whisper.

In the darkness of her room a small smile tugged at his lips.

"After all we've been trough... the word feels wrong somehow. But I really like to spend the evening with you."

"Yes. I mean, I want that as well."

"Bones... you and me..."

"Yes?" she asked, sounding just a little bit breathlessly.

"We are giving this a shot, right? I mean, for real. No more hiding and dancing around."

"Booth... I want to be with you. For real."

"Let's just, I don't know, get over this somehow and move on. Together, I mean."

"Yes."

Suddenly his throat felt very tight, and he placed a hard kiss in her hair.

"You really want to have me?"

Booth flinched inwardly at the pathetic tone in his voice, but part of him was beyond caring. Her small hand moved between their bodies until it could caress his face.

"I've only ever wanted you, Booth. I just couldn't believe that you might want me as well."

"But I do. I do, I do, I do," he chanted, pressing his face deeper into her palm.

Shifting closer, she touched his lips in a chaste kiss full of promises.

"It makes me very happy," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"We're taking it slow, Babe, but we're taking this chance, right?"

"Yes."

He pulled her closer into his arms, burying his face in the silkiness of her hair.

"You mean so much to me," he murmured close to her ear, missing the shimmer of joy in her eyes.

"You mean just as much to me, Booth," she answered. "My heartbeat is accelerated when you hold me, and I find it very hard not to kiss you."

He chuckled.

"I love it when you talk squinty."

Her yawn cut into the sweet intimacy, and he rolled onto his back, pulling her head to his shoulder. She came willingly, finding a comfortable position in his arm, placing her free hand on his chest. His heart was thumping under her palm, and it was so soothing that she had to yawn again.

"You think you can sleep, Baby?"

"I hope so. Booth, about the 'Baby' thing..."

"Yes?"

"Why are you calling me like that?"

He shrugged, causing her to giggle as her head rolled around on his shoulder.

"It's a sign of affection."

"But you already gave me another name. I'm Bones."

He smiled, imagining her pouting face.

"I know. And you will always be my Bones. It's just... one name isn't enough for all the affection I feel for you."

"That's... sweet somehow. Do I have to rename you as well to show the depth of my affection?"

"Nah."

"I could call you 'Gun'," she offered.

"Uh, Bones, just call me 'Booth', okay?"

"Or 'Pie'."

Toying with the soft fabric of his shirt, she imagined calling him like that during an interrogation, and it seemed as if his track of thoughts was following hers because he started to chuckle.

"Lovely Temperance, stop thinking."

"Okay," she finally agreed, saying goodbye to 'Gun' and 'Pie'. After all, the man in her arms had always been Booth to her, and she mused that she could come up with other ways to proof her affection.

He had gotten awfully quiet next to her, and just when his breath started to even out, she raised her voice once more.

"Are we romantically involved now?"

Despite his exhaustion, Booth had to laugh, and her brow furrowed as she lifted her head.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Still laughing, he pulled her down again.

"Absolutely not. You're just cute. Yes, I want to be romantically involved with you, Temperance Brennan."

Nuzzling back into his warm body, she finally lost the battle against her heavy eyelids.

"Goodnight, Booth."

His lips whispered over her head in a featherlight caress.

"Sleep tight my beautiful, wonderful Bones," he breathed, and with a smile on her face, she obeyed.

-BONES-

It was the second time in a row that she woke up next to Seeley Booth, but this time there was nothing awkward about it. He was still sound asleep, his handsome face peacefully calm, and outside the sun was shining. A quick glance at her watch told her that it was past nine o'clock, and even though it was Saturday, Brennan couldn't remember the last time she had slept that long. Or that good.

Unable to stop herself, she traced the contours of his face with her fingers, and his nose wrinkled. Something inside of her felt very warm suddenly, as she thought that this strong and solid man could look cute as well. One more light caress, and then his own hand snapped up, catching hers.

"Hmm," he growled, and her face lit up in a smile.

"It's morning, Booth."

"I figured," he murmured, his voice raspy with sleep.

"Let's get up," she announced, already freeing herself out of his arms, but with little effort he drew her back into the pillows.

"Are you in a hurry here?"

"I have a date tonight," she smiled, and for a moment his unguarded face fell before his dazed mind switched on, reminding him that he himself was her date.

Finally cracking an eye open, he tried to focus on her face. She was as bright as the sun itself, her dark hair tousled, her blue eyes deep and crystal clear. Her cheeks possessed a healthy glow, and the breath whooshed out of his lungs.

"You're so beautiful," he uttered, and then she actually blushed.

His hand moved to her face, grazing her rosy cheeks in a tender gesture, and she felt warm to his touch.

"Thank you," she mumbled, and his lips curved up.

"How did you sleep?"

"Surprisingly good. I suppose your presence is very soothing."

"Only soothing?" he asked, arching a playful eyebrow.

Accepting the challenge, she didn't break eye contact, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

"Soothing when it comes to sleep. Arousing when it comes to other things."

His face sobered up somehow.

"Baby... making love to you has been amazing," he whispered, and she felt a rush of longing at his sweet words.

"I know," she answered, her gaze zooming in on his full lips.

There was this look in her eyes, the one that filled him with hot desire, and he almost had to laugh about the strong reaction she could evoke in him. One glance, all it took was one pale blue glance, and his body was burning for her. But he had possessed her in a rush once, he wanted to have a real date and a goodnight kiss before undressing her the next time. Mustering every ounce of willpower, he tore his gaze away from her.

"Breakfast?" he asked, and she looked almost disappointed.

Gnawing her bottom lip, she regarded him with big eyes.

"Is this some signal I miss?" she finally asked, and he pulled her into his arms, inhaling deeply.

"No, Baby, this is just me trying desperately to take it slow. Be sure that I want you in every sense of the word."

Exhaling in relief, she let him hold her.

"I'm bad at this."

"No, you're just wonderful. I want to take you out, I want to see you in a dress you have chosen for me, I want to spoil you. Make you laugh, make you feel really good. And of course I want you, I want you so much."

Her body had gone pliant in his arms.

"You already make me feel really good."

"I could make you feel even better by cooking breakfast for you. I promise not to cook any fruit."

She smiled into his chest, wondering how she could feel that good after such a sad day.

"That sounds acceptable."

The fruit was fresh, the toast crispy and the coffee strong. The late morning sun was witnessing their very private breakfast, and when they said goodbye to each other a few hours later, he savored his new-found right to hug her just because. She smelled like Saturday and oranges, and, giving in to temptation, he brushed her warm lips with his own. Twice.

It was a very good day.

-BONES-

"Parker Booth, hurry up or we will be late."

"I'm coming, Dad."

The curly-haired boy hurried to gather his belongings, almost stumbling over his untied shoelaces, and Booth rolled his eyes.

"Can I sit in the front next to you?"

Taking in the size of his son, Booth gave in. It seemed as if the boy had grown again since he had seen him the last time.

"Sure. You wanna drive as well?"

His son watched him with mouth agape.

"May I?"

"No."

"That was mean, Dad."

Booth ruffled his son's hair.

"Sorry, Parks. You had a nice time?"

"Yeah, the movie was really cool."

Steering his vehicle through the early evening streets, Booth smiled as his eyes wandered to the blond boy next to him every once in a while. His kid.

"Parker, there is something I want to talk about."

"Uh," Parker twisted his face. "That sounds awfully serious. Is Hannah back?"

"Ahem, what?"

"The journalist woman?" Parker added helpfully.

"I know who Hannah is. Why do you think she might be back?"

"The last time you've been so serious was when you wanted me to meet her. And then when you told me that she was gone."

"You didn't like her?"

Taking a deep breath, the boy thought about his mother's words.

"I totally support and respect your choices, Dad. I want you to be happy."

"You didn't like her?" Booth asked incredulously.

"No, she was okay."

"But?"

"I like Bones."

The man gasped at the boy's words.

"So you want Bones to be my girlfriend?"

"Of course I do. I've always told you so."

"Why? How?"

Parker rolled his eyes.

"She's funny, she's beautiful, she's amazing."

"So this is not about a pool anymore?"

"The pool is great as well."

"So, what do you think?"

The boy tried to recall his mother's words one more time.

"Sometimes things are complicated, and love alone isn't enough. I find that totally stupid, by the way."

Booth chuckled.

"You might like what I want to announce, then."

Parker's head flung around, his eyes wide open.

"Bones is your girlfriend?"

"I think so."

"You think so? Dad, this is a thing you should know. Have you kissed her?"

"Ahem, yes."

"Have you told her that you love her?"

"Not yet. I feel slightly uncomfortable, by the way. You're a child, why are you so interested?"

"Because Mom will totally ask me."

"Parker!"

The boy giggled.

"Come on, Dad, after all, she has told me for years not to give up hope. Relax, we're on your side."

"Ahem..."

"I'm proud, Dad."

Booth blushed, feeling as if the roles were suddenly reversed.

"Ahem, thanks, Buddy."

"About that pool..."

-BONES-

8 pm that night found Temperance Brennan standing in front of her luxurious closet. A dress. Booth had mentioned a dress, and she would wear one for him... but which one? There was the black one she had worn during the opening of the Egyptian exhibition in the Jeffersonian when she had almost kissed him. Or an emerald green one, but somehow she associated that dress with an unpleasant time. There was a sinfully red piece of garment as well, her Roxy dress from all those years ago.

Brennan dismissed them all. Tonight she wanted to look special, and she didn't want any memories to overshadow their new beginning. Browsing the garments, her eyes suddenly spotted a piece of midnight blue satin. It was fairly new, and she was sure that Booth had never seen it before. Midnight blue it would be.

The satin was flowing around her body as she pulled it over hear head, grazing her soft skin in the most sensual way. She had already pinned up her hair, put on a trace of make-up, and when she regarded herself in the mirror, Brennan was taken aback by her own appearance. She wasn't stupid, she knew that she was good-looking, but tonight there was a certain glow around her she had never seen before. Maybe it was because she wanted to be pretty.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been looking forward to a date that much, and when a knock on her door interrupted her solitude, her heart skipped a beat. With a last glance at her own reflection in the mirror, Brennan set herself in motion.

Booth was lingering in her door frame like he had done a hundred times before, but this time he didn't wear one of his work suits and a single pink rose was in his hand.

"Hi Booth," she greeted him with a bright smile, and her elegant beauty took his breath away.

When he had regained his composure, he lowered his head, brushing her cheek with his lips.

"You look wow, Bones."

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself. Is that a new suit?"

"Yeah."

Reaching out his hand, he offered her the flower.

"For me?"

"Don't tell anyone, it's from the Jeffersonian rose garden."

"You've stolen it?"

He shrugged, almost a little bit embarrassed.

"I wanted to pluck it myself, and that was the only place I knew."

Lifting the flower to her nose, Brennan inhaled the rich scent.

"It's beautiful."

He watched her as she sashayed into her kitchen to put the rose into a vase, and when his arms wrapped around her from behind, she was only a little bit surprised that he had followed her. With a smile she leaned back into his body, and on her belly his warm hand drew patterns over midnight blue satin.

"You look stunning," he murmured, and she tilted her head to give him better access to her neck.

Accepting the invitation, he nuzzled the soft skin with his nose.

"And you smell wonderful," he added.

"I'm very fond of your scent as well," she answered, surrounded by his very unique combination of after-shave, detergent and man.

"How was your day?" he asked, still rocking her.

"Quite uneventful. But I wrote a letter to Vincent's mother. I'm not sure if it has been such a great idea, but I wanted to tell her how much I appreciated her son, how exceptional he was."

"Oh, Bones, it was a very good idea."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. You know, it's okay if you don't want to go out this evening."

"You think it is too soon?"

He shrugged behind her.

"I believe that nobody should ever tell another person how they are supposed to feel."

"I want to be with you tonight, Booth."

"It doesn't change the fact that we will miss him or that we are sad, does it?"

"Let's do it, Booth. We've already waited so long."

"I've missed you today."

He could hear her sharp intake of breath, but then her body softened again.

"I've missed you, too," she admitted on a whisper.

She turned around in his arms, and for a moment he drowned in the pale blue depths of her eyes.

"Hi," he smiled, and her own face was brightened by joy and anticipation.

"Where are we going?"

"Dinner. Dancing."

"You aren't telling me more?"

"Await your surprise, my dear."

He had booked them a table at her favorite vegetarian restaurant, and his considerateness touched her deeply. The food was delicious, even though it wasn't accompanied by wine – the Scotch from last night was still too fresh in their minds – and Booth didn't mind the lack of meat. Conversation was flowing easily between them, after all, they had shared a lot of meals, and finding a topic had never been their problem. As always, she stole his food, and as always he teased her about the healthy crap on her plate, but somehow it was even better tonight. His arm brushed hers every once in a while, and every time she leaned into his touch.

Her face was unguarded, smiling a lot, and for once he didn't have to bury the things he felt for her in his heart. Booth was sure that she could see pure adoration on his face, but it was almost as if she reveled in it. The dark blue color of her dress was a perfect contrast to the milky-white shade of her skin, and she looked as smooth as he knew she was.

He took her to an exquisite little blues club after dinner, and her gracious body felt featherlight and solid at the same time when they danced. Her face was burrowed in the crook of his neck, and he remembered the last dance he had shared with her.

It had been like a kiss from a rose in every sense of the word, beautiful and painful at the same time. His heart had been so raw back then, and he hadn't been allowed to love her. Holding her had been the sweetest punishment ever inflicted on him.

With a deep sigh he pushed the memories away. Tonight the rose didn't have any thorns, and their dance was nothing but perfect. He could feel her full curves where she was pressed against his body, and his hand moved in a possessive gesture over her satin-clad back.

They danced for a long time, feeling every beat of longing, living the melody. Somehow they were like the saxophone solo itself, summing up to a perfect whole despite every contradiction. The club owner watched them with a wistful smile, remembering a time when he had felt young enough to love himself. He knew the big FBI guy from a case a few years ago, and sometimes he had come back alone, drinking his beer, listening to the music. There had always been that special expression in his dark eyes, as if he knew exactly what the music was talking about, and, watching the agent with his beautiful woman, the old man suddenly understood.

There is only one thing that makes you appreciate the painful beauty of blues more than a broken heart... and that would be a healed one.

The tunes followed Booth and Brennan as they left the club much later, walking to his car arm in arm. The night had been covered by a strange kind of magic, but, nonetheless, it was still them. It was them like they had ever been, only more. Righter, somehow.

He drove her back to her building in silence, guiding her inside. Then, and only then did she speak.

"Thank you, Booth."

He kissed her hand in a gesture that was as old as chivalry itself.

"My pleasure, Bones."

"No, not only thank you for the night. It has been wonderful, but thank you for taking it slow as well. I think I understand now why you insisted on it."

Drawing her into his arms, he whispered, "You feel really good now?"

"I feel," she took a deep breath to think about the right word, "cherished somehow. Is that weird?"

"No, that is just right. You're so precious to me," he murmured into her hair.

"Will you... will you stay?"

"I want to, but I won't."

Nodding, she tried to hide her disappointment.

"I understand."

Lifting his head, he tapped her chin with his fingers, and then his mouth lowered to hers, and in his kiss there were the saxophone and the stars of the night. His lips were full and warm over hers, and with a sigh she parted them, inviting his tongue. He met her with tenderness, kissing her intimately, promising her that there would come a time when he would stay. When he wouldn't leave again.

Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, caressing the soft hair on his nape, and she could feel the warmth of his hands where they rested on her waist.

When oxygen became a necessity, they broke the kiss, looking at each other with bright eyes, and his chest felt almost too tight to bear.

"I understand," she repeated her words, but this time there was a shimmer in her big orbs, telling him that she really and truly did.

She knew that she would lie awake for a while, thinking about him, touching her lips every now and then, and he knew that she would do it. He knew that he would miss her head on his shoulder, that he would like to stay very much, and she knew that as well.

After all... the saxophone had told them so.

To be continued...

_That was probably the last first date I ever wrote. Sigh. Still have to get used to the new canon..._


	3. A Yes

III. A Yes

Brennan opened the door to her silent apartment, the air as midnight blue as her dress. Even though she was alone, she didn't feel lonely. She could still hear the music in her head, could still feel Booth's lips on hers. With a languid smile she wandered through her spacious living room, touching some furnishings, spinning around on her high heels, suddenly pausing, erupting in giggles.

Her head turned around, the elegant curve of her neck alabaster-white in the moonlight, but no one was there to witness her silly delight. With an astonished shake of her head she finally went into her bathroom, stripping off the dress while walking. The satin cascaded down her body as fluent as water. Her heels came next. By the time she reached the bathroom, she was only in her underwear, a matching set as blue as the dress had been.

Her hair was still pinned up when she regarded herself in the mirror, and, with a smile at her own reflection, she removed pin after pin until curly strands waved around her face. She felt sinfully good, and it had only been a kiss!

Brennan couldn't remember a time in her life when she had behaved more like a teenager after a first date than right now. She removed her make-up with care. Her lips were slightly swollen, and she was almost reluctant to brush her teeth. Rolling her eyes at her own mushiness, she reached for her toothbrush with determination, but somehow the minty paste couldn't banish the memory of his taste. It pleased her beyond belief.

Discarding bra and panties, she took in her naked body. It looked like always, but somehow she felt different. Her breasts stood high, her pelvis was heavier somehow. She had never felt more alive – and it had only been one kiss.

There was a slight hunch of regret that he hadn't stayed, but she understood that he had given her something that _would_ stay. Despite the unorthodox nature and course of her relationship, he had given her a real first date. A true beginning.

She padded into her bedroom as nude as she was, and a smile tugged at her lips as she found his shirt in her unmade bed. Bringing it to her nose, she was surrounded by his unique scent. Without thinking twice, she pulled it over her head.

And somehow... he was there.

She slept well, she slept very well that night.

-BONES-

They took it slow. Three more weeks went by, witnessing the changes in their relationship. Their bond had always been strong, stronger even than mere partner- or friendship, and full of little gestures of affection. A tender touch, the hint of a caress, a secret smile. There had been a million little road signs on their path to a bigger purpose, a path they finally acknowledged for what it was.

He brought her flowers. She cooked for him. They took a lot of walks. There were kisses; kisses that had begun to lose their tentativeness, which had gotten hungrier. Last night, when he had said goodbye to her after an evening at the movie theater, she had found herself trapped between a wall and his firm body, his mouth hot and demanding on hers, his hands wandering underneath her shirt on a will of their own. When they had broken apart, there had been dark fire in his eyes, and his breaths had come fast and shallow. Her own body had been vibrating, but he hadn't stayed.

In fact, after the first emotionally raw days following Vincent Nigel-Murray's death he had never stayed again. Brennan wondered if her partner was somehow punishing himself for the heart-broken passion they had shared, but there were moments when their gazes locked and his one was full of unadulterated joy, telling her how much this, _she_, meant to him, how badly he wanted to do it right, not knowing that in her opinion there wasn't a way how he could possibly do it wrong. She indulged; accepting everything he had to offer, not pushing him for more.

Still, she couldn't wait for the evening when he would finally stay again. Brennan enjoyed every minute they spent together, but she longed for Booth, longed for more. The intimate pleasure they had shared was still so vivid in her mind, but sometimes it felt like a dream. She needed to touch him again, needed to know that it was real. Off late her body had started to react to his proximity stronger than ever. Her breasts felt heavier, almost aching to be touched by him, and last night, her back pressed against that wall, she had been so wet, her core throbbing with desperate need.

But she would wait because... more than everything she wanted to do it right as well.

-BONES-

Saturday had rapidly become Booth's favorite day of the week. Saturdays meant that he would take her out for breakfast, Saturdays meant jeans, shirts, no make-up. Saturdays were movies and dancing and dinner.

This Saturday meant cookies. Well, technically it _should_ mean cookies, but so far they hadn't made remarkable progress. None of them had ever been particularly skilled when it came to baking, but somehow the idea had sounded funny when Brennan had suggested it.

Right now her nose was wrinkled in disapproval, as she regarded the mess of raw eggs running through his fingers, and it would have been pretty disgusting if he hadn't been so amused by her flour-covered cheeks.

"Okay, Baby, we suck at this," he finally stated.

"It's applied physics, we should be able to do this," she answered, unable to accept their failure.

"Yeah, well, but we aren't."

To prove his point, he gestured at the bowl between them. A sad mass of eggs, butter and flour was looking back at them, blaming them for their current situation.

"I'm not happy about this result, Booth," she uttered, and he had to chuckle.

"I believe the eggs aren't happy either. By the way, my fingers feel pretty sticky."

Dancing phalanges crossed her mind, as he showed his hands to her, approaching her slowly. Suddenly, she was alarmed.

"What are you doing? Don't touch me!"

A devilish spark flickered through his eyes, causing her to retreat.

"Don't you dare, Seeley Booth!"

"Or what?" he asked with an innocent grin right before he jumped, right before he caught her.

Brennan squealed adorably, as he held her in the cage of his arms, running his sticky fingers through her hair. Remembering the flour on the counter right beside her, she managed to grab it, and, without thinking twice, she emptied the box over his head.

Then everything was white, her vision clouded, and both of them had to cough. Hers turned into laughter pretty soon, though, as she noticed the dumb expression on his face. He almost looked like a ghost.

"Ha, I believe I won," she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air.

"That was mean, Temperance," he growled, and then he pulled her closer, rubbing himself against her, effectively covering her with the white substance as well.

"Eek, Booth," she protested, but suddenly his mouth was on hers.

He tasted like flour, but despite the unpleasant flavor, she couldn't help but respond to his kiss. Her tongue met his with vigor, eager to feel, eager to touch, and forgotten were the egg residues on his hands, as he grabbed her head to deepen the kiss. Forgotten was everything but the fact that she needed to get closer and even closer to him.

Booth growled low in his chest, overwhelmed by the sensation of her vibrant body in his arms, and then he lifted her. Instantly, her legs wrapped around his hips, and he placed her on the messy counter, never losing contact with her lips. Her ankles locked behind his back, and she pulled him deeper between the juncture of her thighs. Through the fabric of their pants he could feel her heat, and Booth was pretty sure that she could feel his growing hardness as well. Her fingers traced his hipbone, eliciting another growl.

Finally they broke the kiss, and his lips traveled down her throat to lick and nibble the sensitive skin there. Only that he had forgotten about something...

"Ugh, Bones?"

"Yes?" came her breathless reply.

"I hate to say it, but we should take a shower."

"Why?"

She sounded almost desperate, and he met her for another hard kiss.

"Because you taste like flour, but I wanna taste you."

She groaned in disapproval, knowing that he was right.

"I absolutely blame you."

He arched his eyebrow at her.

"The flour is totally your fault."

"But if you hadn't started with the eggs..."

He cut her off with another kiss.

"The faster we shower, the faster we are clean."

She regarded him for one silent moment, but then her brain had caught up.

"You take the guest bathroom, I take the master bathroom. If you need more than five minutes, I'll come and find you."

Unsure if it was meant as a promise or a threat, he simply pulled his shirt over his head, as he started to walk away. She swallowed hard at the sight of his bare back, and his head turned around one last time.

"Same goes for you, Bones."

Then he had vanished into the bathroom, and finally her feet understood the signal to move.

They only needed four and a half minutes before they met in the hallway, crashing into each other with the speed of light. Both of them had damp hair, both of them had towels wrapped around themselves, and nothing of it mattered when she jumped into his arms, when he caught and held her.

Her lips parted under his, her fingers ran through his dark hair, his hands under her buttocks supported her weight.

"Now I can taste you," he murmured between kisses, and she moaned, throwing her head back, eager to let him taste her as much as he desired.

"Take me to bed, Booth," she said softly, and it was somewhere between a demand and a plea.

"Yes."

There weren't that many corners in her apartment, but they managed to bump into every single one of them on their way to her bedroom. He was pretty sure that there would be some bruises on his skin the next day, but he didn't really care that much. All he cared about was the precious burden of her weight in his arms, the softness of her lips under his, the tiny noises she made.

To sum it up, all he cared about was her.

They almost fell onto her mattress, and since both of their towels had loosened in the process, they found each other skin to skin. She was as soft and milky-white as he remembered it, but this time her eyes were clear, her cheeks rosy. She looked... happy.

Not knowing why he had stilled, she lifted her hand to caress his cheek.

"Are you okay?"

A smile tugged at his lips, as devotion mingled with gratitude washed over his face.

"Yes. Are _you_ okay?"

"Yes."

His fingers slid down her arm, entwining with hers.

"For the very first time... we are both okay."

She gave him a little smile.

"This is good, right?"

"Yes, this is very good."

Then his lips were back on hers, gentler now, and for a long while he just kissed her. He kissed her for all the times he hadn't kissed her when he had wanted to; he kissed her for every time he had seen her crying; he kissed her for all the lonely tears she had cost him. He kissed her for the brilliant woman she was, and he kissed her for the lost child she had been. He kissed her for everything he had ever wanted to say to her... and she took it, she accepted it all, giving just as much back to him.

Her body was warm and soft and open under his touch... and so was her heart.

Her hands roamed over his skin, evoking goosebumps, learning his secrets. Arching her back, she tried to get even closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her completely. Her legs widened in acceptance, willing to cradle him, and he met her like the perfect piece of the puzzle. His lips worshipped her full breasts, kissing, sucking, licking, and his name was a gasp, as she pleaded for more.

He breathed sweet endearments into her ear, some where her name, some were his heart, but all of them went straight to her core.

Then they met. She was soft where he was hard, and his dark eyes held her lighter ones like spellbound.

"You are mine," he growled, and she nodded under tears because that was all she wanted to be.

"Yes," she said, as he kissed her. "Yes," she whispered, as he cupped the back of her knee to open her even further. "Yes," she moaned, as he slid into her in one long stroke.

And then he said, "Yes," as well, as he lost himself in her body, as the universe shifted until it became her. Until moving inside of her was everything that mattered. She was hungry and wild underneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust, begging him to move faster. Her hands were everywhere on his skin, and she was everything he could feel.

"Yes," she breathed, as he tilted his pelvis to plunge into her; "Yes," he growled, as her teeth sunk into his shoulder.

"Yes," they screamed, as her muscles fluttered around him, as he erupted deep inside of her. As wave after wave carried them away in perfect unison.

And, "Yes," he said, as she asked him if he wanted to stay...

Pulling the blanket over their limp bodies, Booth drew her into his embrace, unable to stop himself from kissing her. She smiled at him under heavy-lidded eyes, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from their passion.

"Booth?" she murmured languidly, and he hummed in reply.

"I've been right, making love with you is very satisfying."

He swallowed hard, as his heart threatened to spill over.

"I know," he just whispered, pressing his lips into her silky hair.

Her eyelids closed, and she sighed adorably, as her hand curled around his fingers, and her breath evened out. It was only early evening, but outside it was gray and rainy, and Booth felt pretty sleepy himself. However, he fought against the sweet pull because he didn't want to miss a moment of her sleeping in his arms. He studied her thoroughly – the curve of her long lashes, the color of her lips, the sound of her breaths. She smelled as familiar as always, but this time the heavy muskiness of their lovemaking lingered in the air as well. It was perfect, just perfect.

"I love you," he whispered, but of course she couldn't hear him. However, he felt better for saying it, and with a smile he followed her into Morpheus' arms.

-BONES-

They hadn't used protection. Again. One time could be a slip, could be human, but twice... twice was stupid. Brennan regarded herself in her bathroom mirror, her hair still tousled from their nap, her shoulder bruised where he had sucked her.

They had made love. Again. One time could be a slip, but twice... twice made it true. A full smile lit up her face, and her heartbeat accelerated, as she thought about the man that was still in her bed. She didn't regret a thing... but they really had to talk about birth control.

Washing her face, she looked at herself one more time before leaving the room. With a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, she went back to her bedroom.

He was lying on his back, his arm still forming the hole she had slept in, and her stomach did a somersault at the sight of him so vulnerable. Brennan knew that she loved him, had known it after the first lonesome weeks on the Maluku Islands, and she was pretty sure that he loved her as well.

He had never said it to her. She didn't know if he was hesitant or if he was just waiting – maybe for the right moment, maybe for her. It didn't really matter, though, because somehow it felt right. Temperance Brennan was a scientist, had always been, but none of her studies had prepared her for the inexplicable perfection she felt. Once he had told her that he was that guy. That he knew. Right here, right now on this rainy, cloudy evening she understood.

His eyelids fluttered, as the mattress shifted under her weight, and he searched her with unfocused eyes.

"Hi Babe," he smiled.

Lowering her head, she met him for a soft kiss.

"Hi yourself."

"Where have you been?"

"Bathroom. Kitchen."

She placed the bottle of water next to him.

"Plus, we have to talk."

Noticing her sudden seriousness, Booth braced himself on his elbows, and her heart clenched, as his eyes clouded in self-protection.

"No, Bones, please," he whispered, and she touched his shoulder to reassure him.

"Booth, listen to me, please. I don't regret anything. I want this. But," she took a deep breath, "I have to inform you that I don't take any contraceptives."

His brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Contracep- oh. _Oh_."

"Yes, 'oh'."

"We didn't use protection."

"That would be correct."

His glance flickered to her belly and back to her eyes.

"What are the odds?"

"It's highly unlikely. The first time we had intercourse was days before my ovulation, and today should be days after. But... there is a risk."

Sitting up and pulling her into his embrace was one movement.

"I'm sorry, Bones. I didn't think," he chastised himself.

"Well, I didn't think, either. And it's usually my strong suit," she murmured.

"I guess we should be careful from now on."

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she met his gaze with a wicked spark.

"Define 'careful', Agent Booth."

Raising one eyebrow, he accepted her challenge.

"Oh, I don't know, Dr. Brennan. I guess I could still touch you."

His hand traveled down her shoulder to cup her full breast, kneading her gently. His lips fell to her throat.

"Breasts are safe," he murmured between kisses and caresses, and her soft moan vibrated under his mouth.

His hands moved lower, lingering on her belly for a moment, before disappearing between her smooth thighs.

"Touching should be safe as well," she stated on a gasp, his fingers brushing her curls, teasing her.

"I agree," he answered huskily, and his thumb circled her clit.

She squirmed in his arms, and he rolled them around until he covered her with his body. Her legs widened for him willingly, and he felt a strong rush of affection at her utmost display of trust. Searching for her lips, he captured them in an intimate kiss, and then two of his fingers dove into her core, stroking her in the most private way ever. She was silky, so silky, and her tight muscles gripped him immediately.

Something stirred between his legs, as the desire to be one with her overwhelmed him again, but he reminded himself that this wouldn't count as "safe" right now. He loved her. He was in love with her. The idea of her carrying his child was something he would always bear in his heart like a precious fantasy; ever since she had asked him two years ago and especially since he had dreamed about it, but... for the first time in his life reality was better than any dream, and he just wanted to be with her.

He wanted to kiss and taste every inch of her smooth skin, he wanted to see that look in her eyes again, the crystal blue right before she fell over the edge.

"I can touch you as well, right?" she asked, her hot breath on his face, and he nodded.

"I think we agree that touching is- ah," he groaned, as her tender hand found his shaft, immediately pumping him in a tight grip.

His eyes fell shut, as his head dropped to her shoulder, and his pelvis rocked into her touch. He needed a moment before he could resume his own ministrations, and the air was full of whispered promises and breathless moans, as they caressed each other intimately. There was barely space between their bodies, and their hands met each other every other moment, a sweet reminder that his wasn't probably very safe after all.

"Maybe you shouldn't lie on top of me," she suggested after a while, and he swallowed hard, as he rolled down from her.

Never interrupting their touches, they came to a halt on their sides, facing each other, and he used his free arm to pull her head into the crook of his neck. With a sigh, Brennan burrowed her face in his skin, in his scent, in him. Between her legs, the world was humming where he stroked in and out of her, tension building. She could feel moisture pooling, and in her own palm his strong manhood was pulsating.

"You feel wonderful," she murmured, nipping his shoulder, and he growled in response.

"Oh God," he gasped, entering her with a third finger, as her second hand joined in, cupping the weight of his balls.

"Really wonderful, Booth."

Her fingernails ran over his satiny skin, grazing him gently.

Unable to speak, he sought her mouth, and her lips parted for his tongue, welcoming his deep kiss. She was soft, so soft everywhere, and he was falling into her softness. Just when he felt himself getting harder and impossibly harder under her touch, she sighed into his mouth and her inner walls contracted in an uncontrollable rhythm, as she came around his fingers. Her eyes flew open, capturing him in an explosion of light, and then his own world stopped, as he followed her, covering her hands with his hot seed.

"Yes," she breathed, holding him tight until everything stilled and the only thing racing were their heartbeats.

When the hands of the clock had started moving again, he opened his eyes, finding something between smugness and satisfaction on her face.

"I believe that was safe."

He laughed, kissing her again and again.

"I'm glad that we were so reasonable."

"You know that we could just use condoms, don't you?"

"Jeez, Temperance, you are really smart."

"Are you teasing me?"

"Maybe a little."

He disentangled himself from her with a last kiss, and her protest followed him, as he walked into the bathroom. Water was running, and a few moments later he emerged again, a washcloth in his hands.

The breath whooshed out of her lungs at the sight of him so naked but so proud, and Brennan was glad that she was lying because suddenly her knees felt very week. Her gaze roamed over his body hungrily.

"You are truly impressive," she whispered, and he would have responded with a cocky remark if her own uncovered beauty hadn't rendered him speechless.

Swallowing hard against the lump of tenderness in his throat, he took her hands into his, cleaning her with the damp washcloth. Once the task was fulfilled to his entire satisfaction, he brought her hands to his lips, kissing each wrist with infinite gentleness.

Lowering them again, he brushed a few dark strands out of her face.

"You are just beautiful," he finally answered.

Her eyes were wide, so wide, so blue, so open, and for a few heartbeats they just looked at each other. Then her arms came around his neck, almost tentatively, and he pulled her close to his chest, his nose buried in the silkiness of her hair.

"Are you happy?" she asked, and somehow he knew that – as corny as her question might be – she had never asked it before.

"Yes. So damn happy."

He could almost feel her smile, as he cradled her.

"Me too."

"I can't even begin to describe what you mean to me, Temperance."

"Even though that doesn't make any sense, it is... touching somehow."

He chuckled lightly, and then his stomach chose that moment to interrupt with a deep growl.

"It's a shame that we don't have cookies," she stated seriously.

"Yeah. But we could always order Thai."

"Some things never change," she smiled.

"Isn't that reassuring?"

And it was...

Always the gentleman, Booth cleaned up the mess in her kitchen while she took a shower, and when she came back from the bathroom, clad in a pale pink robe, their food had already arrived. Brennan watched him rearranging it on plates, and her chest felt so warm, as he hummed contently. She didn't know the melody, but it was contagious somehow.

Padding on bare feet, she moved in his direction, and with bright joy on his face, he turned around. His arms opened for her, and she walked right into them. He wore nothing but soft sweatpants, and his body was strong and smooth under her arms. He was hers.

And outside one perfect Saturday had turned into a gray and rainy night while inside they were safe and warm in their embrace.

He was tall where she was small, but together they were perfect. He would die for her, she would live for him. Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth had always been willing to risk everything possible for each other.

But now they were finally willing to risk everything _with_ each other.

And while they shared their meal in the lazy aftermath of love, neither of them knew that right between them cells were dividing, new life was growing. A life they had created. With love.

To be continued...


	4. A Line

IV. A Line

Her period was late. It had never been late. At least not that late. The first day the thought could be banished to a distant corner of her mind, kissed away by his sweet lips. The second day, when he sheeted himself to enter her, she wondered if the condom was still needed, but the moment he was buried deep inside of her, her worries shattered in blissful lust.

The third day was harder, and, upon awakening next to his sleeping face, Brennan studied him for a long while. He deserved the truth, but... what was it? She trusted him with her brain and her heart, but what would it mean? Everything had just changed, and she was still adjusting. _They_ were. Brennan didn't know if she was strong enough to face another change so soon. Would he stay with her? Or worse... would he stay only for the child? She wasn't able to think past her insecurities, and so she opted for peppering soft kisses along his jawline.

She had learned that her touch was welcome, wanted even, and as much as he liked to use his physical strength, as much as he needed to possess her at times, she had been surprised to find out that she held the same power over him. As always in the past days a smile brightened his face before he was fully awake, and his warm arms closed around her, his face snuggling into the crook of her neck. Her hands whispered over his bare back, muscles pliant under her touch, and he sighed into her skin. His lips pursed in a tiny kiss, nibbling her throat before stilling, just breathing her in.

Intimacy... she had learned to accept it, even craved it. Her fingers raked through his tousled hair, eliciting a purr almost too soft for such a big man. The sex was amazing, the best sex she had ever had, but she assumed that it was partly because it wasn't just sex. Every time he slept with her, she could feel the connection. Something inside of her was gravitating towards him – as if she was a magnet and he the other pole.

A few days ago they had been supposed to meet for dinner, but she had been detained at the lab. Upon arriving in the restaurant, she had found him talking to a tall blond woman at the bar. The sharp pang had been unfamiliar, and Brennan had needed a moment to label it. Jealously. She had never been jealous before, but right there dark rage had consumed her. Reading his body language, Brennan had known that Booth had neither been attracted to the woman nor encouraged her, but then the blonde had touched his arm while throwing her head back in laughter, exposing her throat to him. Temperance Brennan wasn't an anthropologist for nothing, she recognized an invitation to mate when she saw one, but this time there had been nothing scientific to her reaction.

Squaring her shoulders, she had sashayed in his direction, resting a possessive hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Baby, I'm late."

His head had turned around, delight and confusion on his face, and, without thinking twice, she had kissed the hell out of him. He had smelled delicious, tasted even better, and when they had broken the kiss, blondie had vanished.

He had given her a cocky grin, understanding her fully.

"Jealousy suits you... _Baby_."

She had shrugged it off, but hadn't been able to fool him, and that night they hadn't made it to the bedroom. Their coupling had been frantic – in fact her back was still bruised from the hard wall.

Brennan had never believed in the concept of monogamy, but suddenly she had been convinced that she would do very bad things to him if he ever betrayed her. As always, he had understood her unspoken words, and his soft voice had been an arousing contrast to his hard thrusts deep inside of her.

"You're it, Baby. Just you. I only want you. Always."

Possessiveness and intimacy – Temperance Brennan had always considered them her biggest enemies, but as she cradled his big body on the morning of this third day, she found it oddly reassuring that she had every right to call him hers. His eyes were still closed, and his lashes tickled her skin. It was a light sensation, softer than the roughness of his stubble, but both of them were details that shaped her new reality – a reality that consisted of going to bed with him and waking up in his arms.

Around them the world hadn't stopped turning, but between them something had shifted, and when he finally opened his eyes, the deep brown caused her heart to skip a beat.

"Hi," he rasped, his voice still covered with sleep. Another sensation she had become intimately familiar with.

"I just had the weirdest dream," he continued, and she stroked his back lazily.

"Tell me."

"We were in the woods, and suddenly it started raining. There was a purple mushroom, big enough to give us shelter, and you had just informed me that the witch's cottage was just around the corner when a rabbit flew by."

She chuckled.

"What happened next?"

He shrugged in her arms.

"Dunno, you kissed me awake. At first I thought it was the rabbit, it felt so fluffy."

"I hope you're not disappointed that it was me and not the rabbit."

He rolled her around, suddenly very much awake.

"Nah, you're even cuter than the rabbit. What a silly dream."

She stretched herself, feeling delicate and safe underneath his big frame. A silly dream, indeed, but Brennan took purple mushrooms and flying rabbits over the bloody nightmares that had used to haunt him anytime.

"You could ask Sweets to interpret it."

"And risk that purple mushrooms mean you are involved with your partner? No way, the kid is too dangerous with all his shrinky power."

They had never really decided to hide the change in their relationship from their friends, it had sort of happened, but both of them were content to keep it as a secret for now. Only Angela knew, but she was kind of busy these days.

Booth traced the reddened skin of Brennan's neck with his thumb.

"I should have shaved last night."

"I don't care. I can cover it with make-up."

His lips fell to the spot, kissing her with infinite tenderness.

"I hate hurting you."

"You didn't hurt me. I have to confess that I like finding your marks on me."

His mouth moved from her throat to her lips, nipping them gently.

"Anthropologically speaking, what does this tell us?"

Her arms snaked around his neck lazily.

"That I have fallen for the alpha male?"

Laughter rumbled low in his chest.

"Maybe the alpha male has fallen for you?"

Their kiss stopped the conversation, as tongues swept languidly over each other, and sweet ache bloomed low in her belly. Suddenly there was a beeping noise interrupting their private morning, and he lifted his head, confusion written all over his face.

"Why does the alarm ring? It's Sunday."

Stretching, Brennan hit the button.

"Breakfast date with Angela. She wants to have 'girl time' for a last time before the baby comes."

"That would be the third time this week."

"And every time chances are higher that it really might be the last time."

"Pregnant women can be strange," he murmured, missing the brief flicker of something in her eyes.

"Do you have to head home first?"

"That depends," she answered, brushing his rough cheek with her smooth one.

"On what?"

"Did you do the laundry?"

"Yeah. By the way, there is something I have to confess."

"What is it?" she whispered close to his ear.

"Something happened to that white top of yours."

"Huh?"

"Well, my socks..."

"Oh no... How bad is it?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Do you like pink?"

Wrinkles appeared between her brows, but then she decided to be amused. After all, it was just a top.

"What about the rest of my clothes?"

"The jeans and the blue thing are fine. Your underwear... well, it matches the top."

"You washed it with the rest?"

"You put it in the hamper?"

"Ah, it doesn't matter. I will survive. Thanks for washing it."

He held his lips firmly shut, as he remembered the ceremony that had been his last laundry day. Finding her clothes in his hamper had been such a mundane thing, but it had been evidence, evidence of her in his life. No need to tell her that he had yelled at his red-striped sock afterwards, that he had tried to bleach her top. Hell, he had even ironed her stuff – except for the bra of course – and he couldn't remember the last time he had done that by himself. Giving his suits and shirts to the laundry shop was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself.

"You're welcome," he just said. "You want a cup of coffee before you leave?"

"No, I'm having coffee for breakfast. Sorry for not mentioning my appointment."

"No problem. You don't have to tell me everything, Bones."

She regarded him calmly, finding nothing but honesty on his face, and her heart swelled.

"You make it so easy," she whispered.

Confusion washed over his face, and she hurried to clarify.

"Being in a relationship with you feels so easy. As if," she shrugged helplessly, "as if I don't have to change."

He cupped her cheek lovingly.

"Why should you change? I want the real you, not some fantasy version."

She saw the truth in his eyes and swallowed hard. Taking his face in both palms, she caressed his cheeks with her thumbs.

"I love you, Booth."

Her voice trembled slightly, and for a moment he thought he might faint, as his heart thumped in his throat. His eyes became as big as saucers, and he went completely rigid on top of her.

Brennan observed him with growing anxiety, but when she was only seconds away from freeing herself out of his arms, his face started to glow, and he collapsed on top of her.

"I think I just died," he whispered, and automatically her hand flew to his neck to feel his pulse. It came fast.

"You heartbeat is acc-"

"Stop. You love me?"

Her brow furrowed.

"I believe that's what I just said."

"Oh my God, you love me?"

He braced himself on his forearms, only to crush her to his body a few seconds later. His mouth was on hers hot and fierce.

"You really love me?"

She nodded between kisses, and then he was gone, jumping up and down on the bed, letting go of a cry of glee. The mattress was bobbing, the wooden frame of the bed creaking, and Brennan watched him with a dumbstruck expression. That wasn't quite the reaction she had anticipated.

Then he let himself fall down again, crawling next to her, and despite his obvious joy there was a watery shimmer in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he uttered, taking her hands in his. "You caught me off guard here."

"Are you happy?" she whispered with true concern, but he brushed it away with a fragile smile.

"Happiest guy in the world," he answered, even though there was a single tear glistening on his cheek.

She brushed it away with a tentative finger, and he drew her into his lap, holding her gaze.

"I'm so in love with you," he finally said, and relief flooded every cell of her being.

Suddenly, _she_ was the one fighting against the prick of tears, and he pulled her close to his chest.

"Bones... my Bones."

His heart was beating loudly under her ear, and then something damp hit her head, and he exhaled a shuddered breath.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, but couldn't hide her own sob.

"Why are _you_ crying?" he answered, and she lifted her head, finding everything she felt on his face.

Her lips curved up on a will of their own, and then she was laughing, laughing sillily, and he joined in. Their mouths met for a kiss that was flavored with happy tears, and his hands tunneled in her hair to hold her in place.

"My love," he murmured against her lips, and it hit her heart with its tenderness.

"I love you, Booth. It is silly, I can't explain it, but I know that it is true."

"I love you, too, and I don't find it silly at all. Not loving you would be the real foolish thing."

They shared another smile, one more hug, both of them wishing that she could stay. However, you don't let pregnant women wait, and when she kissed him goodbye half an hour later, the scent of his detergent in her clothes, Brennan knew that she would take a piece of him with her. And he would keep one of her.

It was the third day, but she had forgotten about it.

-BONES-

The fourth day came with a new case. Human remains had been found in a bowling alley, and the deceased male turned out to be a member of her father's bowling team. Of course, there had to be death in the wake of Max Keenan again.

She had seen Booth only a few hours ago, and when she met him and her father at the Diner, she made sure not to sit too close to Booth or to look at him in a way that would reveal her feelings. The idea to go undercover as his girlfriend was more than tempting, though. Her mind traveled back to Tony, the sexy boxer, or Buck, the sexy knife thrower. As much as she loved the real Booth, she was the first to admit that she found the idea of a little role playing quite arousing.

An hour later she was sitting on his couch and hadn't even touched the clothes the FBI had chosen for her, still fantasizing about Booth in tight shirts with bare arms, when he emerged from his bedroom. Every thought of sexiness vanished, and her jaw dropped, as she took in his faded eighties jeans and the ridiculous wig.

"Hey Sweetheart," he said, hooking his thumbs in the loops of his jeans.

"This is unexpected," she uttered.

"You don't think I'm hot?" he asked, rocking his pelvis towards her in an unmistakable gesture, and she started to giggle.

"I'm really curious how I can possibly match this."

Grabbing the bag the FBI had given to her, she walked towards his bedroom.

"Stay put, Buck."

She needed thirty minutes before she emerged again, disapproval written all over her face, and he erupted in laughter.

"Oh, yeah, we do match. And I thought _my_ wig was ridiculous."

"This outfit is not flattering," she stated, but his eyes had already zoomed in on her low cleavage.

Clearing his throat, he approached her.

"One part is."

Following his gaze, she looked down at herself.

"My breasts? Really? You can fade out the wig and everything else?"

He nodded.

"Totally."

He was so close that she could smell him now, only that it wasn't him. The after-shave wasn't right, he smelled like a cheaper version of the Booth she knew. His hands were the same, though, as he cupped her breasts, brushing her covered nipples with his thumbs. She gasped, and he squeezed her boldly. With a wicked grin, his lips fell to her chest, licking the exposed skin.

Her hands flew to his head, pulling down his wig to feel _his_ hair between her fingers, and then he tugged at the straps of her dress until they slid down her arms. Her bra had a front clasp – thank God – and within seconds her soft globes spilled into his hands.

"Yeah," he murmured in appreciation before licking his lips and closing them around one dusky peak, sucking her gently.

Despite his ridiculous attire, damp heat was pooling between her legs, and she moaned as his teeth grazed her. Her hands fell to his zipper, but he retreated, shaking his head.

"Nope, Babe, I need my energy for the game."

She gave him an incredulous glance.

"Seriously?"

"Damn right."

She gestured at her bare breasts.

"You have no plans to finish this?"

"Oh, I do have plans."

He sucked her into his mouth one last time before dropping to his knees in front of her, peppering soft kisses all over her midsection while grabbing her buttocks... not so softly.

His fingers dove under her dress, and within seconds her pants and panties were dangling around her ankles, and he blew cold air over her sex.

"Fucking beautiful. Open your legs, Baby."

The rational and well-educated part inside of her rebelled, but before she could protest, her thighs had already spread, not obeying her.

"At least you're not wearing that wig anymore," she mumbled, and with a cocky grin, he pursed his lips, kissing her intimately.

Her short curls brushed his nose, and he inhaled deeply, as always overwhelmed by the very own scent of her. Then his tongue darted out, and her breath hitched, as he licked her satiny folds.

"Hmm," he hummed into her flesh, and the vibrations added to his caress created tinglings of warmth in her belly.

With his hands cupping her buttocks, he could rub her entrance from behind, and just when his lips closed around her clit, sucking her gently, he inserted one finger into her core. He was greeted by slick heat, and his own arousal throbbed painfully. She was so wet for him, and he longed for her long legs around his waist, but they were already late, and he needed to concentrate on the case. After he had concentrated on her.

She made tiny noises, and her ragged breath told him that she was already close. He alternated between sucking and licking her, enjoying the salty taste of her, and a second finger joined the first one, stroking her long and deep.

"Booth," she whimpered, and he only released her long enough to speak.

"Come for me, Baby," he demanded, tapping her clit with the tip of his tongue.

Her hips buckled, and he held her tight.

"I... I cannot see you."

His head was a bulge under the fabric of her dress, and his low chuckle vibrated against her sensitive flesh.

"Lift your dress, then."

"Oh..."

Her fingers obeyed, and her dazed eyes sought his, almost burning him with pale blue fire. The way he touched her, the way his face was buried between her legs almost made her blush, but suddenly his fingers were replaced by his raspy tongue plunging into her, licking her silky walls, and every thought of shame left her, as she spread her thighs even further, as her orgasms consumed her with violent force. Her vision clouded, as she shattered under his mouth, and even though she couldn't feel her legs anymore, he held her upright with little effort.

An instant later he was standing again, pulling her close to his chest, and on his lips she could taste herself. She whimpered at the rush of tenderness and belonging that she felt, but he rocked her safely in his arms.

"I love you, Temperance," he whispered against her lips, and her arms flew around his neck.

The hard peaks of her bare breasts felt almost painfully where they were pressed against his clothed body, and her breaths came hard and fast.

"Love... you, too," she gasped, and he felt like a king for rendering this brilliant woman speechless.

He held her for a few private minutes, whispering sweet nonsense into her ear, and then they were really late, and she freed herself out of his arms, gathering her clothes to rearrange herself.

"Bones?"

"Yes?"

She was on her way to the bathroom, but her head flung around.

"Please," he swallowed hard at the sight of her, "would you wear a jacket or a necklace to distract me from your breasts? As chunky as possible?"

The throaty sound of her laughter pearled into the air.

"I do have necklaces."

-BONES-

They met Max at the bowling alley, and even though they were on a case, it was almost fun. Booth found himself engrossed in the game, and charade was mingling with reality as she linked arms with him, as he planted a big smooch on her soft cheek.

"That's my muffin at work!"

Her words catapulted him back to one of their very first nights when she had suggested to call him "Pie". Every now and then his gaze flickered to her breasts, but true to her words, she wore the biggest necklace he had ever seen on her. It distracted him profoundly from her real assets.

The bowlers themselves were a pain in the ass, and his feet were itching in the gross bowling shoes. His stomach was revolting against the coke he was sipping, but still... it was fun.

Being with Temperance Brennan was so much fun. And she loved him... Sometimes Booth still couldn't believe his luck. She was so responsive, so open to everything he offered to her, and despite the pain that had been their relationship for the better part of the last year, now that they were finally together... it was so light, so easy.

Part of him was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the rest of him embraced their new relationship with a big, open heart.

Because he loved her as well, like a fool, and he was finally allowed to act on it.

They got the call sometime after the first game. Angela was in labor, and the realization that in another part of the town the magic of birth took place touched him deeply.

"If Buck and I ever had a child..."

He assumed that Brennan's words about babies were triggered by the things that happened to her best friend right now, but in a distant corner of his mind a bell rang, reminding him that they hadn't used protection twice. Brennan had never mentioned it again, but something about the maths was odd. They had had sex regularly for the past ten days, and their first time had been three weeks before it... He made a mental note to ask her about it once everything was over, but the mere idea sounded ludicrous. They had just started their relationship, they couldn't have a baby right now. He pushed it away, focusing on their undercover operation again. The faster they solved the case, the faster they could head to the hospital.

Two hours later the suspect was in custody, and Brennan found herself in the hospital's ladies' room. Her wig was gone, and without the gum, the deep red lipstick and the dangling earrings she looked like herself again. Taking a deep breath, she regarded her reflection in the mirror, the white stripe in her trembling hands.

Three minutes had gone by, three minutes while anxiety had made her nauseous. The blue control line had appeared immediately, telling her that the test was working. Then she had to wait for another line. Three minutes. A hundred and eighty seconds.

She loved Booth, she loved him so much. She loved eating with him, sleeping with him, making love with him. She loved the universe of emotions in his eyes, she loved his voice whispering to her in the darkness, right before sleepiness lifted them to the land of dreams. She loved his shirts in her laundry basket and she loved the idea of having a future with him.

She even loved the idea of carrying his child... just not... right now.

Taking another deep breath, she opened her eyes in search for another line, swallowing hard.

_Bang. Mamma Bones..._

His words came back, teasing her. "That's not how it happens," she had said, and she laughed humorlessly, as she thought how exactly it had happened. "Bang," would be a very good term to describe it.

Not trusting herself fully, she took her cellphone to take a picture of the pregnancy test in her hand. Two lines.

A few rooms away, a baby was being born. But right here, right under her heart... another one was growing.

Hers... and Booth's.

To be continued...


	5. A Life

V. A Life

Twisting the stuffed bunny in her hands, Brennan felt the word like a sledgehammer in her head. Pregnant. She was pregnant. A strange mixture of reverence and fear rushed through her veins. Her body didn't feel different at all, but suddenly everything had changed.

She didn't trust herself enough to sit next to Booth. The father of her child. Dizziness overwhelmed her, as her mind provided her with the right label. From now on, he would always be the father of her child.

From a distance, she could hear Angela's cries, and Brennan's stomach turned upside down, as she thought about the pain. A few months from today _she_ would be lying in this bed, and it would be her scream.

She wasn't ready, she was absolutely not ready for this, but it wasn't as if she had a choice. They had created a life, and from now on they would be responsible for it. The urge to touch her belly was overwhelming, but she suppressed it, using the bunny in her hands to distract herself. It was fluffy, very cute. She had bought it with Booth after the case with the deaf-mute girl. Back then they had just been partners...

Was that true?

Her chin dimpled, as she thought about the last time they had truly been nothing more than partners... if ever. The attraction had been there right from the beginning, and even before he had been her friend, her cornerstone, Brennan had desired him physically. Maybe they had never been just partners.

Maybe it had been, she swallowed hard, fate. She had never believed in such a thing, but, in retrospective, something had given them opportunity after opportunity to find together. Sleeping with him, even conceiving his child – it had almost been inevitable, and time didn't really matter.

If things had gone differently, she could already have his child, a toddler that would be a mixture of him and her. If things had gone differently, she would have crossed every other line with him a long time ago. If...

_Everything happens eventually._

His words of comfort and faith had followed her ever since he had first spoken them, and, sitting in the waiting area, Brennan suddenly realized that their eventually had happened. She cast him a quick glance. He looked tired, and the way he favored his right side told her that he was sore. Her heart flew to him, and she wanted to take him home, take care of him.

Noticing her gaze, he flashed her a candid smile, and something inside of her softened.

How would he react? What would he say?

Then something bigger than a mastadon was in the room, as Hodgins stepped into the waiting area, carrying a tiny bundle in his arms. His son. Everything but the baby's big blue eyes, everything but the sweet little face blurred, as the proud father announced his boy's name with an awestruck voice.

Michael Staccato Vincent Hodgins.

The name was as unique as the parents, as unique as the story which had led to the child's birth. Would Booth hold their baby just like Hodgins? Would he announce its name with the same utmost pride?

Instantly, she knew that he would. Seeley Booth would always be there for his child, and the realization calmed her somehow. Regardless of what might happen to _them_, he would be the best possible father ever. She knew it.

Still, a very selfish part of her was worried about _them_. For most of her life, she had been alone. Not necessarily lonely, but alone. Now she was neither the one nor the other; she was his. She wanted to be that woman, and part of her wished for more time in intimate togetherness before someone else would come. Someone Booth might love more than her. Who might change the way he looked at her.

Did that already make her a bad mother?

Inhaling deeply, she turned away from the baby to see her best friend.

Angela was visibly exhausted, but an almost ethereal glow surrounded her. Bliss itself shimmered in her eyes, and her smile couldn't be washed away. Brennan felt a strong rush of affection for her friend, the one who had stood by her side long before Brennan herself had been able to stand beside anyone.

"What was it like?"

"It was wonderful. And beautiful. It was a dream."

The fluffy bunny swapped owners, and the two women shared a warm smile. No more words were spoken, no more words needed. The thing that had taken place, the miracle of birth, was as inexplicable as love itself, and Brennan realized that the most fundamental biological experience was nothing short of magic. Still, she found it hard to grasp that just the same was happening to her.

Hodgins came back into room, placing the baby in its mother's arms. Tiny little fingers grabbed a bigger one, tiny little lips pursed, and then the boy meowed as softly as a kitten. Brennan's chest tightened, as she was swept away by love – for this baby, for her friends, for Booth, for the child under her heart, for the universe itself. Inhaling deeply, she retreated, giving the new family some privacy. Before she was gone for real, she risked another backwards glance. It was beautiful, so beautiful.

Suddenly, she realized how utterly wrong she had been when she had asked for Booth's sperm a few years ago. How much she had really asked for. This... the purest one of joys she had just witnessed, she would have taken it from him, taken it from herself as well. Back then her wish for a baby had originated in a strange but overwhelming mixture of instinct and theory, almost clinical. Deep down she had known that she hadn't wanted just any baby, that she had wanted _his_ baby, but she hadn't been able to picture a scene like the one she had just seen.

However unprepared she felt right now, she knew that she was at least doing it right. She had conceived this baby with love, and regardless of what Booth might say, Brennan could see him with the child, could picture herself with them.

The prospect of telling him made her nauseous, though, and an irrational part of her feared that he might be disappointed or even mad at her.

It was almost 4 am, and the others were gone when she came back into the waiting area. Only Booth was there, waiting for her with patience, and, without thinking twice, she walked straight into his arms. He hugged her close, surrounding her with his soothing kind of strength, and his lips whispered over her hair. Letting go of a sigh, Brennan just held him, and his warmth washed over her, relaxing her. She opened her mouth to talk – twice, in fact – but no words came out. Everything felt so raw, so fragile suddenly, and so she surrendered herself to their mutual silence.

The night was still dark, but one could already taste harbingers of the morning in the air. They walked aimlessly side by side, and after half an hour of silence, they found themselves in front of the Royal Diner.

He smiled at her, she smiled right back, and on this morning that was so upside down, the idea of food at half past four didn't feel weird at all. Their waitress regarded them with a big question mark on her forehead. These two, her favorite clients, had never been here that early – or that late – and something about them was odd. They weren't bickering, hardly talking, and both of them looked... different somehow. They left before dawn, resuming their walk. Brennan could sense him right beside her, but he didn't touch her, and somehow that made it easier to find words.

"They looked so happy."

"Yeah, they had a baby."

"Their whole lives are changing, you'd think they'd be a little bit more apprehensive."

"They're having a baby, that's a good thing."

"You... you really think that?"

"Yeah, it's a great thing."

Brennan was behaving more than strangely, and Booth stopped, turning around to face her. As much as he loved this woman, as much as he knew her, sometimes he just didn't understand her. Michael was a healthy little baby, Angela and Hodgins over the moon. Why in all the world did Brennan sound so... so... yeah, how did she sound? Sad? Scared? Hesitant?

"What? What? Oh, come on, Bones, look, the baby, the baby is fine. It's healthy, they have a healthy baby. Alright? They love each other. This is the happiest day of their lives. Okay?"

If possible, the look on her face had gotten even stranger.

"What?"

"I'm... I'm pregnant."

She sounded incredulous, helpless even, and he could only watch her, frozen in shock. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. The word echoed in his head.

"You're the father," she felt the need to add, and, as unnecessary as the clarification was, it was such a Brennan thing to say.

Her heart was beating too fast, way too fast, as she awaited his reaction, his verdict, and eventually – finally – his lips curved up, and his face started to glow. She had never seen him like this, and something cold, something that had gnawed at her insides for the past days splintered... and she was free.

He looked as if he couldn't believe it, and she couldn't believe it herself, but his smile triggered her own, his joy dazzling her.

"You're pregnant?"

His eyes flickered from her face to her belly and back.

"Pregnant?"

She nodded.

"My period is late, so I did a test. They're not one hundred percent correct, but evidence says that, yes, I'm pregnant. How," she fidgeted slightly, suddenly anxious again, "how do you feel?"

"Are you kidding me? This," he gestured between them, "_you_, Temperance, have always been my dream. It has always been you... and now... now you're giving me a baby! A baby! This is happiness on top of happiness! This... this... ah, come here."

And finally he pulled her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly until her feet dangled around his shins and she had to look down on him.

"We are having a baby," he whispered into her face above him, "a baby."

Letting her down again, he held her close to his chest, his lips finding hers in the sweetest kiss ever.

"A baby," he repeated against her mouth, his words tickling her skin.

"How do _you_ feel, Bones?"

"Everything... everything happened so fast. I'm," she shrugged her shoulders, "scared."

His face sobered up, and he regarded her with ice-cold fear grabbing his heart.

"Do you... do you want it?"

Her eyes widened in shock, as she grasped the full meaning of his question.

"This is _your baby_, Booth. I have always wanted your baby. It's just... you and me... and," she interrupted herself, "I wish we'd planned it. I wish we'd had more time for each other."

He looped his arm around her neck, pulling her head to his broad chest again.

"The things you haven't planned? Those are the best, Honey. And you and me... we had years and years of opportunities. Maybe," he chuckled, "maybe our kid got tired of waiting and took its first chance."

"That doesn't make any sense," she protested.

"Bones, look at me. Hey, we are solid, right? I love you, I'm _so_ in love with you. You are the smartest, nicest and most beautiful woman I've ever met. You challenge me, you can make me mad as hell, you can make me feel. You can make me feel so much. I want you, I want this baby. I want this life."

"Everything is changing. So fast..."

"Hey, you aren't a pyramid anymore. And," he swallowed hard, remembering his biggest pain," you _do_ have an open heart. You know that, right?"

Looking into his dear face, she found herself responding to the warmth, the love, the care. Her hand sought his between their bodies, clasping it.

"I know. I love you, too, and I _am_ happy. I suppose I will be even happier after the initial shock has subsided."

He pulled her deeper into his embrace, whispering into her ear.

"Whenever you get scared, hug me."

A smile played around her lips, as she remembered his words from all those years ago.

"It has never been a guy hug, right?"

"You're scary smart."

Rolling her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and then her eyes dropped shut. It had been a long and exhausting day.

"Hey," he shook her gently. "Don't fall asleep on me. Home?"

"Yes, please."

"Cab?"

"Hm-hmm."

-BONES-

The birds had already begun their morning arias, as they arrived at her apartment fifteen minutes later, and she was dead on her feet. She didn't fight him when he undressed her, and Booth _had_ to cup her bare belly with his palm. It was still flat, but soon it would swell, and in a few months he would be able to feel the baby moving. She, the woman he loved so much, was carrying his child, and his mood changed from reverence to drunken happiness every other minute.

Warmth spread out, where his hand rested protectively on her, and suddenly Brennan was wide awake again, as she studied him studying her belly. He looked so devoted, so blissful, and she lifted her hand to stroke his hair.

Tilting his head, he found her gaze again, and, slowly, he sunk to his knees, kissing her midsection, but never breaking eye contact. His nose dipped into her bellybutton, tickling her, and his fingers traced every inch of skin, as if he was mapping her, searching for the difference.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Oh, Booth..."

Then he was standing again, scooping her up in his arms. Having no strength to protest, Brennan let her head fall to his shoulder, and she felt so precious, so taken care of. Very gently he carried her into the bedroom, placing her on the mattress.

She watched him striping off his clothes, and when he joined her on the bed, she opened her arms for him. Crawling on top of her, Booth searched for her mouth without procrastination. Lips opened, tongues swept over each other, giving and demanding. She sighed adorably, and he caught it.

His hands tangled in her hair, enjoying the familiar silkiness between his fingers, while her arms snaked around his muscular back, holding him tight. She was covered by a blanket made of Booth, and it was her favorite place to be, right here in his arms.

He nudged her knees with his own, and immediately she made space for him, welcoming him between her thighs. Her feet brushed his calves, as she wrapped herself around him. With a swift move he rolled them around until she was sprawled on top of him, and his hands left her hair, trailing down her sides, coming to an halt on her hips.

"Are you sleepy?" he husked.

"Not too sleepy," came her drowsy reply, and then his lips were on hers anew, brushing them, nibbling them, teasing them until tongues met for another lazy dance.

She could feel him growing between her legs, and her body answered with pooling heat. A moan – his or hers – broke their kiss, and her tongue followed the strong line of his jaw to his ear, nipping the lobe. Her breath was so close, so sensual, and he couldn't hold back a gasp – not that he would have wanted.

His own hand moved between their bodies, palming her most sensitive part, rubbing her gently. She squirmed on top of him, pressing herself deeper into his touch, deeper into his body. He could feel her heat, and he could smell her. Primeval instincts kicked in, and when her light nips wandered lower until her teeth sunk into the tender skin of his shoulder, Booth cupped the back of her head with one palm. Because... he had fallen for the alpha _woman_, and he liked finding her marks on his own skin as well.

She smiled against his flesh, fully aware what she was doing to him, and her fingers joined in the game, skimming his nipples in a featherlight tease. He groaned.

"Don't tease me," he warned on a whisper, the tip of one finger dipping briefly into her core, causing her to whimper.

"Don't tease me either, then," she breathed.

Outstretching his hand, he searched for the box on her nightstand, but she stilled him with her gaze.

"What are you doing?"

"Condom."

Raising one eyebrow, she just looked at him.

"Oh..."

"I suppose we can't get me pregnant _again_."

His hand came back, drawing circles on her belly.

"I didn't forget. It's just... routine, I guess. So?"

His eyes got a wicked glimmer, and, with a matching smile, she lifted herself until he was aligned properly. With hands splayed on her hips, he pulled her down – down until he was buried to the hilt in slick and hot and silky Brennan. And the world was perfect.

Moving on top of him, her eyes closed, her back arched, she looked like a goddess, and her full breasts called out to him. Bracing himself on his elbows, he raised until he could capture one dusky peak with his lips. Her inner walks clenched briefly, squeezing him in the most pleasant way, and he fell back to the mattress, taking her with him.

The new angle intensified his strokes, and she whimpered in delight, as he wrapped his arms around her to thrust into her from below. She met him with rocking hips, tilting her pelvis until they were almost separated, only to sink back a second later. His arms around her tightened, tightened until she could hardly move anymore, and his strokes got lazier, deeper.

Demanding her lips, he kissed her in a way that matched their rhythm, and sweet desire was lingering in the air.

"Please," she gasped, but he didn't move faster again.

Slowly, so very slowly tension was building, pulsating low in her belly, almost painful with its soft intensity. Their kiss deepened, and then he pressed his palm into the small of her back before thrusting into her hard and fast. Once. And twice.

And shatter she did. The waves came in circles, ecstasy flooding every cell of her body, carrying her away. Through the rush in her ears, she could hear his cry, could feel his hot seed shooting into her convulsing softness. Then there was nothing, nothing except for his arms wrapped around her, and her limbs enveloping him.

They held each other for a while, but, eventually, she had to roll down from him. Brennan stretched herself languidly, and he watched her with a loving smile.

Around them morning had broken, but neither of them did care, as they hovered between sleep and wake until their eyelids finally remained shut. But even in sleep, his hand found her belly, staying there in a subconscious gesture of unconditional love. And even in sleep, she responded with a smile.

Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.

Life... had happened.

To be continued...

_Okay, I just ordered a pregnancy book, thank you very much Hart Hanson, I blame you if my poor man gets a heart-attack. Where do we go from here? _


	6. A Blueberry

VI. A Blueberry

They called in sick. Booth and Brennan had never done that before, but considering the fact that they had spent the better part of the night in the hospital, neither of them felt like getting up at 7 am. Plus, they had already solved the murder at the bowling alley. The paperwork could wait, and it was highly unlikely that her bones would run away.

It was almost noon, when they stirred again, the sun tickling their faces. Her naked body was warm and pliant in his arms, and Booth watched her struggling with sleepiness for a few blissful minutes. Temperance Brennan was always beautiful, it didn't matter what she wore, it didn't matter if she stood knee-deep in human remains. But first thing in the morning, so unguarded... this was how he liked her best. Her face bare of make-up, her dark hair tousled, her cheeks rosy from sleep. There was something so heart-crushingly innocent about a drowsy Brennan, something he couldn't even explain. All he knew was that his life was perfect when he could hold this sleeping woman in his arms.

Then her eyelids fluttered, and Booth looked forward to his second-favorite thing, the first unfocused gaze. The blue of her big eyes was always paler in the morning, deeper somehow. He liked to think that he could see straight into her soul.

Eyelids snapped open, and he got what he needed.

He tapped her nose with one finger, and she twisted her face in the cutest way ever.

"Hi Bones," he smiled, and she groaned in response, stretching herself in his arms.

"Good morning," she finally slurred, and he poked her nose with his own.

"Hey, Baby, we're having a baby!"

She rolled his eyes.

"I think it is time for you to stop calling me like that."

He pondered her request for the fraction of a moment before brushing her lips with his.

"Nope."

"But it doesn't make any sense. You wouldn't call the baby 'Adult', would you?"

He frowned.

"Don't confuse me with your logic, Baby."

She sighed, accepting defeat for now, and his fingers whispered over her skin until they found her belly.

"You don't look different at all. You don't feel different, either."

"Well, the embryo is only as big as a sesame seed."

"So tiny. Do you... can you already feel something?"

Her hand met his on her abdomen.

"I feel very... sensual somehow. My breasts are just a little bit more tender than usual. Of course that could be because of you as well."

"Because of me?"

"Well, I wasn't sexually active for quite a while, and now we're engaging in interc- ahem, making love quite regularly. I figured it'd be only natural to feel more sensual."

"Is it uncomfortable when I touch you?"

His voice was just a little bit insecure, and she hurried to shake her head.

"No, not at all. It is more than comfortable."

"What happens to the baby right now?"

"The neural tube is sprouting, and soon the brain will start to develop. The heart is forming as well. Through the umbilical cord my body provides the embryo with nourishment and oxygen."

"Brain and heart, they start growing at the same time?"

"That's correct."

He gave her a big grin.

"I like that. It's like us, Bones."

"Of course it is like us since we are the parents. However, I get your metaphor," she added with a warm voice, "and I like it as well."

"When can we go and see a doctor?"

"We", he had said "we", and it moved her unexpectedly.

"Usually they don't take appointments before the eighth week. Chances are higher that the pregnancy will stick after that period of time."

"So we don't know for sure until then?"

Her face saddened.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be, Bones. Let's just hope, okay? I'm sure everything will be fine."

"You can't possibly know that, Booth."

"But I can have faith. I just wish I could see it somehow. Do you," he pondered the craziness of his question, "do you think you could do another test? Or did you, by any chance, keep the first one?"

"I'm sorry again, but the lines fade away after a while."

Suddenly an idea crossed her mind, and she disentangled herself from him to jump out of the bed.

"I took a photo."

His face lit up.

"You did?"

"Yes."

She came back with her cell phone in her hand, searching for the picture.

"Here it is. The first line there is the control line, and then you have to wait three minutes. If another line appears, the result is positive."

"Two lines," he whispered, staring at the display in awe.

"Two lines," she repeated.

"Three minutes, huh?"

She nodded.

"How did you feel?"

Tilting her head, she let go of a throaty laugh.

"I believe the appropriate term would be 'shit-scared'."

He chuckled, pulling her into his arms.

"My poor Bones. Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged.

"Everything is still so new. I... I don't want to lose you, Booth."

Her confession shocked him.

"I would never leave you, how can you even think that?"

"But you could stay only for the baby, and that would be another kind of losing."

Holding her close to his chest, he rocked her.

"Maybe I should make it absolutely clear. Temperance Brennan, I love you. I would go to the ends of the world for you. In fact, I did. Whatever life you offer me, I take it, and I'll be a happy man as long as you love me back. With or without a baby, I want you. _You_. But now... now there already is a baby, and I don't care if it makes me greedy, I want that as well. I want it all. But only with you. _Because_ of you. You get that?"

She was very still in his arms, and he knew that he had touched her. He felt her shuddered breath, and then she spoke.

"That was a very beautiful declaration. Thank you, both for loving me _and_ for finding just the right words to verbalize it. You know that I feel the same about you, don't you? I might not be able to say it in such a beautiful way, but I feel it."

"You're saying it just right, Bones, don't worry for a second. You say it with antique Tommy Guns, massages and kisses. You say it with your big beautiful eyes. And don't let us forget that you do 'verbalize' it. Hearing these words from you... it makes me shiver. Every freaking single time."

"I love you," she whispered, and shiver he did.

"Honey," he smiled, "I have an idea to dispel your worries. We have a few weeks before we can see your OB/GYN, right?" She nodded. "Let's take the time for us. Let's try not to talk about the baby, let's just be a couple. Do ordinary stuff, you know?"

She smiled at his suggestion.

"You already dispelled my worries. No, I don't want to compartmentalize anymore. I don't want to have a plan. Let's just," she shrugged, "live."

He had to laugh because that reaction was so unlike her.

"I guess the pregnancy has already messed with you brain," he teased, and she slapped him unceremoniously before leaving the bed.

"Where are you going? Come back!"

"My twisted brain tells me that I'm hungry," she stated in mock dignity before disappearing in the direction of her kitchen with swaying hips.

His laughter followed her, and he fell back into the pillows for another lazy minute of joyous contemplation. He was happy. He was very, very happy.

-BONES-

There were so many things to discuss, so many potential pitfalls and unresolved questions – Where would they live, for example, and what about their partnership? – but in the first weeks following her announcement, they didn't touch the subject at all.

Life grabbed them mercilessly, sucking them in. With Angela on maternity leave and Hodgins on vacation they were short-staffed at the lab, and Booth barely saw Brennan during the days. No rotten bones popped up, and he worked a case without her. In the olden days he would have found a lot of excuses to manifest in the Jeffersonian, would have even dragged her to a crime scene with fresh remains. These days he didn't have to make up reasons to see her, he could just go home in the evening, and most of the time she would be there.

They would meet at his place or at hers. It didn't really matter because one way or the other, they were together, and it was home. The TV on his place was bigger. Her tub was comfortable enough for the two of them. He had his own pillow in her apartment. She owned one in his bed. Somewhere along the line two lives had blended, two individuals had chosen a common path, and sometimes they wondered silently how familiar everything already felt given the fact that their relationship was still as new as the summer.

Those first weeks seemed to be a bubble of happiness, and their intimacy was covered by a blanket called discretion. No one was there to intrude, it was only them.

Of course, they didn't forget about the baby, but somehow they managed not to dwell on it either. Every once in a while Brennan found him studying her belly, but always, _always_ when his eyes wandered back to her face, holding her gaze like a caress of dark velvet, there was still the same look of adoration in them.

She just had to hug him, then. In fact, nowadays she found it quite hard not to be in his arms.

Seeley Booth was a father, he had already experienced the miracle of creating a life, but taken into consideration that he had been in the army back then and that he and Rebecca hadn't been on good terms, he didn't know much about being involved with a pregnant woman. And, most of all, he didn't know much about being involved with a pregnant Temperance Brennan. It can complicate things if your woman is the world's leading forensic anthropologist, insisting that she knew more about the human body than any pregnancy book ever written.

However, it was sometime in the seventh week when he started to notice changes she couldn't hold lectures about. Her feet, for example, they used to get cold easier and as soon as they came home in the evenings, she hid them in ridiculously fluffy socks. He observed the development with amusement, but when she started to wrap herself in blankets on warm early summer evenings, he began to wonder why she was freezing all the time.

They had always been quite tactile with each other, even before their relationship had gotten physical, and in the weeks before they had learned about the pregnancy, Booth had savored her new habit to touch him whenever it had pleased her. Warm arms around his back when he had cooked breakfast for them, a head on his shoulder in the cinema, a hand sneaking into his own. She was still touching him, but somehow... somehow it felt more restrained these days, as if he was holding back.

And he didn't like it, he didn't like it at all.

Their baby was as big as a blueberry when he decided to address the subject. It was a mild Friday evening, and Brennan was lying on the couch under a pile of blankets. Approaching her with a hot tea, he took a careful seat next to her, giving her the mug.

It wasn't as if they didn't talk, in fact, they talked a lot. About everything, about nothing, but right now he felt as if he was looking for a needle in a haystack.

With a grateful smile she accepted the hot beverage, bringing herself into a sitting position and taking a first cautious sip. Booth pushed a few strands out of her face, tucking them behind her ear.

"You still cold?"

"A little."

"Blueberry is bothering you?"

She rubbed her belly absentmindedly.

"I don't think so."

"Why are you freezing all the time, Bones? Maybe there is something else bothering you?"

A brief flicker of something washed through her eyes, but then she had covered up again. His hand landed on her knee.

"Don't do that, please. Talk to me."

"It is ridiculous," she uttered almost against her will, and he caught her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look at him.

"The only thing ridiculous is that you hide under a Mount Everest of blankets when outside the sun is shining. Just tell me."

She took a deep breath, clasping the warm mug with both hands.

"Booth, I am strong. I've always been capable to take care of myself."

He felt a slight pang of hurt at her words.

"I know that, and I respect it. But please... share it with me."

"You misunderstood me," she said, registering his mood. "What I'm trying to say is that I _have_ been like that. Now... now..."

"You don't feel strong and self-assured anymore?"

"I feel... pathetic," she almost spit out the word. "I crave you, constantly, and it isn't even sex. I want your arms around me all the time, and the few nights we spent apart in the past weeks, I slept in your shirt. I want to crawl into you, and knowing that this desire is physically impossible doesn't make it any better. I don't want to suffocate you. I don't want to be like this. I want to be a lain-back and amusing girlfriend, not a clinging one."

With a furrow between her brows, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, and Booth tried his very best not to laugh in relief.

"It's laid-back, Bones, and why do you assume that I want such a girlfriend in the first place? You're pregnant, and I suppose it's totally normal that you feel more domestic and vulnerable. Come here."

Tugging at her hand, he drew her into his embrace, hugging the pile of blankets with the Brennan filling affectionately.

"Plus, I have no objections if you want to crawl into me," he added, and the first sincere smile played around her lips.

"I'm silly," she stated.

"Nope, you're pregnant. But, Bones, for God's sake, if you want to hug me, just do it. Whatever you need, whatever you want, just take it. I want to give everything to you. Everything. I want to keep you warm. Besides, it's not as if holding you is a sacrifice or something like that. I need you as well, Temperance."

She sighed in his arms, finally wrapping herself around him, allowing need to consume her, fully expecting to be overwhelmed by pathetic emotions. It came as a surprise that the moment she surrendered herself to her weakness... she didn't feel weak anymore. Something inside of her shifted and clicked, and she lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him in utter astonishment.

"I feel better."

He chuckled at her dumb expression, pecking her lips gently.

"I'm glad I could help."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why do I feel strong again when I have just admitted my weakness?"

"Admitting weakness is the strongest thing ever, Bones. Just don't hold back. Between you and me, there is nothing you have to be scared of, you understand? Never."

She nodded in acceptance.

"Thank you, Booth. I feel oddly energized suddenly. Maybe we could go out?"

He pulled her close anew.

"I could dance with you all night long."

-BONES-

They didn't manage "all night long", but when her head fell to his shoulder in the backseat of the cab, it was already two o'clock in the morning, and his feet felt pleasantly sore. She wore a simple black dress, and even though she was still gracious and slender, there was a certain heaviness around her hips, and her cleavage was even fuller than usual. She didn't look pregnant, but a new kind of sensuality was surrounding her like a charm, and when he had swayed her in his arms in the little club, he hadn't missed the one or other hungry glance thrown in her direction.

However, she hadn't noticed it, and his hands splayed on her hips, guided by the music, he had proven to manhood and the universe that she was his.

He fucked her slowly that night, showering her with the depth of his feelings, drowning her in his desire for her. And maybe... just maybe they managed to crawl into each other just a little bit.

-BONES-

"Man, I need to get drunk tonight, and you are my partner in crime."

Booth twisted his face in confusion.

"Is everything alright, Hodgins?"

"Absolutely," came the other man's cheery voice. "Our baby is healthy, my wife is wonderful, and I feel great. I just need a good Whiskey and someone who doesn't puke at me for one evening."

Booth exchanged a glance with Brennan who was sitting across from him in the Royal Diner. They had just finished lunch and were about to head back to work. "Hodgins," he mouthed, and her hand reached out immediately. He gave her the phone.

"Dr. Hodgins, how is the baby?"

"Hi, Dr. B. The baby is fine, Angie is fine, I am fine. I just informed Booth that I want to get drunk with him tonight. Maybe you'd like to come over? I'm sure Angie would be over the moon."

"I can do that. I'm quite excited to see Michael's development. Why do you wanna get drunk?"

"Just because. The world is a great place, and I want to celebrate. Listen, why don't you come over around eightish? Then Booth and I can find a bar, and you two can do your thing."

"That sounds acceptable. I'll tell Booth."

Snapping the phone shut, she handed it back, a puzzled look on her face.

"Do you think that was a trick to separate us for an interrogation?"

He shrugged.

"No idea. How much does Angela know?"

"Not much. I told her about the first night."

He nodded.

"How much do you wanna tell her?"

"What goes on between us is ours..."

His heart filled with warmth, as she repeated his words from such a long time ago, her eyes full of pale blue trust.

"At some point we have to tell them."

"I don't want to tell anybody about the baby before we aren't past the first trimester."

"That's wise, I guess. But, Baby, she's your friend. Whatever you want to share with her, just do it. I suppose a man has to live with that. Just," he hurried to add, "don't tell me afterwards, okay?"

"Why?"

"Why? I'll tell you why, the idea of you discussing our sex life with your best friend is disturbing as it is. Knowing details would be too much."

"Booth, I know that you are very private about these things."

"Yeah, but you are not. I guess I'm offering you a compromise. You don't have to change how you are, not for me."

Her face softened, and her hand reached out automatically. Remembering that they were in a public place, she stopped last-minute, pulling back reluctantly.

"I promise you to compromise as well."

-BONES-

They reached Angela's and Hodgins' new flat at quarter past eight that night. Booth found it strange to sit in the passenger seat, but since Brennan would stay sober, taking her car was the logical choice. At lot of hugs and kisses were exchanged, and then four adults gathered around a little crib, watching its inhabitant. The baby boy was sleeping, only the pacifier moving in his tiny mouth.

Angela and Hodgins looked tired but radiant with joy, and after a sweet goodbye kiss the curly-haired man grabbed his wallet.

"Have fun, ladies."

Angela smirked.

"Take care of him, Booth, the last time he got drunk he came home with a new tattoo."

Booth slapped the other man's shoulder.

"I'm sure we'll fight a nice spot for another one."

Hodgins groaned.

"I told you that your father did that to me."

The two bickered lovingly, and Booth and Brennan exchanged a longing glace, as their friends kissed once more.

"You're ready?"

Booth nodded, but before he had stepped out of the door, he turned around anew, firm determination in his features. Closing the distance to Brennan in three long strides, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.

"Have fun, Bones,"

She gasped in surprise, but regained her composure fairly quickly, grabbing his collar to kiss him one more time.

"I know your tattoos as well," she warned him with a wicked smile, and his lips curved up.

"See you later."

Risking a glance at their friends, they were greeted by Angela's smug grin.

"About time," Hodgins murmured. "One more reason to celebrate."

Then the men were gone, and Brennan turned around to face her best friend. Angela's eyebrow arched up.

"So?"

"Yes?"

"I guess you did talk about it, then."

Brennan's face lit up, as she followed her friend into the spacious living room.

"We did."

"You are a couple?"

"We are."

"And? Sweetie, tell me everything. What is it like?"

Remembering the last time this sentence had been spoken, Brennan mirrored her friend's words.

"It's wonderful. Beautiful. It's a dream."

Angela pointed one finger at her.

"I know what you're doing here. You're not leaving tonight before you haven't told me about it in your very own words."

Brennan smiled almost shyly.

"I love him."

Angela squealed as silently as possible.

"You told him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He loves me as well."

"Oh, Sweetie, I knew it. This is great! It _is_ great, isn't it?"

A dreamy look washed over Brennan's face.

"It truly is. I've never felt like this before, and I begin to realize what I've missed. He is very considerate. And warm. He is a wonderful kisser. Being with him... it doesn't feel strange at all."

Angela regarded her with sincere affection.

"Well, the two of you have always been together somehow. Minus the sex, of course. You do have sex, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Brenn, come on, you have to give me something. My own body is nothing more than a milk bar at the moment."

Brennan leaned back into the cushions of the comfortable couch, debating how much she should share. Then an idea crossed her mind. She could hardly overstep the boundaries of Booth's modesty if she just talked about her subjective point of view.

"I feel like burning whenever he touches me. I used to be quite practical and emancipated about sex, but with him I lose my mind. I long for his weight on me, and I cannot think straight anymore."

Angela sighed.

"That is lovely. What happens next?"

Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Dinners, flowers, a baby... Brennan interrupted her track of thoughts.

"I don't know. But isn't that what love is supposed to be about?"

The artist gave her a warm smile.

"I guess it is. At least before a baby is in the picture."

Ice-cold shock rushed through Brennan's veins, but then she realized that her friend was only talking about herself.

"How much does it change?" she dared to whisper, and Angela laughed.

"Just everything. It's not only about you and the sexy man anymore, now there is someone else you have to consider. Suddenly you talk about diapers and burps. But it's a good change, a very good one."

Michael whimpered in the other room, and Angela pricked up her ears. The whimper turned into a cry, and the baby's mother got up.

"Feeding time."

Sitting on the couch next to her friend, Brennan regarded the sucking baby. She saw the soreness around Angela's areola, but she saw the intimate connection as well. A trace of milk lingered in the air, sweet, and, even though it could impossibly be Brennan's own memory, it felt like childhood.

Her scary heart was beating wildly, and something inside of her screamed that she was not ready, that she wanted more time. She needed more time of undivided Booth attention, more time of silly love. Just... more time was the only thing she did not have. Inside of her the blueberry was growing, developing ears and hands.

-BONES-

"Cheers!"

Glasses clanged and golden spirit was gulped down.

"So, you and Dr. B?"

"Yes."

"That's cool, man. Finally."

Booth's lips curved up, remembering the roller coaster ride of the last years and months.

"Subscribed."

"Listen, I don't wanna pry, but the two of you are sure this time? Being around you was damn painful when we all came back."

Staring into his refilled glass, Booth tried not to dwell on grief and regret. They were past that. She loved him, he loved her, and they were having a baby. Their love had created a new beginning.

"We are. I love her, Hodgins, like a fool. I would never let her go again without fighting. But I don't think she wants to go anyways. She has changed."

"Yeah, I noticed. Watching you with Hannah was pretty tough for her." Registering the stern look on his companions face, Hodgins bit his lips. "Hey, I'm sorry."

"No, you're right. We've been very stupid."

"Sometimes you have to lose something to realize how much it means," Hodgins mused, and while he thought about a long and painful time of separation, Booth's mind traveled back to a crowded airport hall and a cold hand in his.

He lifted his glass.

"To wisdom. And to the women we love."

"To our women!"

"So... the baby. How is it?"

The scientist started to glow.

"It's a miracle. Suddenly there is someone with your eyes, and the woman you love is a mother now. Dude, a mother! I'm so in awe of Angela's body. It's exhausting as hell, and everything is different, but it's the best thing ever."

Soon, so soon the woman he, Booth, loved would be a mother as well, and as much as he wanted their baby, as much as it made him the happiest guy on earth... Booth felt an unexpected pang of something. Was it jealousy? Or something entirely different? Only a few weeks ago Brennan had been worried that he might only stay with her because of the baby. It was ridiculous, he would stay with her for every reason. She was it for him. However... a part of him began to wonder if her behavior had been dictated by pregnancy hormones and instincts. How much of her new affection originated in the fact that she was expecting his child?

And while they ordered another round of drinks, the sour feeling couldn't be shaken off.

-BONES-

The night got older, and in another part of the town two friends said goodbye to each other while their men swallowed one last drink. Taking a deep breath full of dark air, Brennan wrapped her arms around herself, so many thoughts spinning around in her head, making her dizzy. She drove home to a lonely apartment, trying to put some distance between herself and her musings. It didn't help.

Seeley Booth paused for the fraction of a second before giving the cab driver his address. He didn't know if Brennan would be there, waiting for him, but somehow he felt that she wouldn't. He could count the nights he had spent alone in the past weeks on one hand, but tonight there was no room for someone else under the cloud that was hanging above his head.

Her bed was too big, his pillow smelling like him. Everywhere she looked, there were traces of him in her life, even deep inside of her own body.

His bed was empty, and while the room was swaying unpleasantly, Booth longed for something, someone that would anchor him. It was her, had always been her. He could still remember the first time he had truly relied on her. It had been a tough case, one that had hit too close to home, reminding him of his past as a sniper. They had been in a mall, and he had known that the suspect had been carrying a bomb. He hadn't been able to shoot the man, though, he had needed a face. And he had counted on her to give him one.

Then there had been another time, and he had been tipsy as well. They had been sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, and his head on her shoulder had been the only thing grounding him. Literally.

It was like a movie in his head, occasion after occasion when she had been there for him. She had proven that it had not been JFK. For him. She had guarded his coma, providing him with a dream that hadn't been a nightmare. She had gotten drunk with him after Hannah had left.

Jolting up, Booth realized how stupid he had been. Temperance Brennan would never do something she didn't want to. And she had proven, time after time, that she wanted to be there for him. She would never stay just because of a baby.

"Idiot," he murmured, kicking the blanket away.

"Idiot," she thought as well, riding in her car one more time this night. She was already wearing her PJ's, but after half an hour of brooding, she had experienced an epiphany similar to his.

While she had mourned something she thought she'd never have, flickers of the past had manifested in her head. Undivided Booth attention... Her life had been full of it, so full of it. The way he had looked at her down in New Orleans, tapping her chin to examine her injuries.

His chest muffling her sobs. _I know who you are..._

She was the only smart person he truly liked, she wasn't a bad anything, she was the standard.

He had danced with her on her high school reunion, and despite the wistfulness of the moment, the room around them had vanished. He had thrown a knife at her, and her body had vibrated with desire and faith. Once she had worn a red tutu and big white gloves, and even though he had been with Hannah back then, his gaze had found and held hers over the crowded room.

Undivided Booth attention... she had always possessed it, right from the beginning. His very own intensity, the dark fire in his eyes – it had always been for her. Their time of exclusive romantic love might be shortcut, but the things they had shared, they weren't.

There were years of memories, years of knowledge, and once more Brennan surrendered herself to something that felt suspiciously like fate when she parked her car in front of his building.

She had just lifted her hand to knock, when his door opened and Booth stormed out, wearing nothing but soft sweatpants, an old shirt and jogging shoes. Both of them stopped mid-track, and he took in her outfit for one silent moment. Then she was crushed against his chest.

"Bones..."

"I've been so stupid, Booth," she blurted out, her arms tight around his waist.

"No, _I_ have been stupid," he murmured into the familiar softness of her hair.

"You panicked, then?"

"Just a little. You too?"

"Briefly."

"I know that you love me, Honey, and I know that you would never stick with me only for the baby's sake."

"And I realized that I already had years of your undivided attention, and even though we might not feel ready to become parents, we are more than ready to be a couple."

"We have months before we will be parents."

"I know, isn't that reassuring? Months for me to show you how much you mean to me."

"Months for us to make up for wasted time."

"Does this already count as a crisis?" she asked seriously, and he chuckled, his whole body vibrating around her, through her.

"We resolved it quite well. Maybe we're not that stupid after all. You wanna come in? I've missed you in bed."

She nodded, letting him guide her inside.

"I'm not used to sleeping alone anymore."

"Makes two of us."

Ten minutes later they were burrowed in fluffy blankets, her head on his chest, his arms around her. Her lips were soft and warm under his, her sighs sounded as sleepy as he felt. The thumping of his heartbeat under her ear was something Brennan had become utterly familiar with.

This... this was one more moment where she had his undivided attention; this... this was one more moment where she had reached out to him.

After all, they were the center. And it held.

To be continued…

_Thank you so much for your kind reviews, they mean a lot to me, especially since this story is quite a struggle. This pregnancy theme is so not within my comfort zone, and I have to confess that I don't enjoy writing as much as usually... I don't know how far along the pregnancy I will write, but as long as it feels that I still have something to say, I'll keep on writing. I'm doing my best to get the facts right, even though it is a lot of research. As much as I can't wait to watch the new canon, writing it is tough... _


	7. A Heartbeat

VII. A Heartbeat

Temperance Brennan watched with mild amusement how her partner helped himself at the water dispenser. For the third time in about five minutes. They were killing time in the waiting room of her OB/GYN. She was eight weeks pregnant by now, and this was their first doctor's appointment. In a few minutes they would see their baby for the very first time, and if everything was alright, the doctor would confirm her pregnancy, and she would leave with a maternity log in her handbag.

While she was nervous but calm on the outside, Booth was visibly agitated, alternating between squeezing her hand and pacing the room every other minute.

She wasn't showing yet, but her jeans felt unpleasantly tight around her waist, and she had been forced to purchase new bras. So far, Brennan had been spared from morning sickness or back pain, and she thanked their baby for every day that felt kind of normal. She knew that she was on borrowed time, that soon, very soon, the baby would become the focus of her attention, and she embraced every moment where it was still about her and Booth and only them.

However, she had made peace with the baby's timing, and whenever a slight hunch of panic overwhelmed her, she found reassurance in Booth's arms, his eyes and his mere presence. As always, he was the best partner one could wish for.

Raking his hair with his fingers, Booth plopped onto the chair next to her. With a smile she offered her hand, and, as expected, he grabbed it.

"Why aren't you nervous? I feel like vomiting," he complained.

"I am nervous, but I doubt that pacing the room would help. Are you sure you can handle this? They will probably do a vaginal ultrasound."

He felt dizzy for one moment.

"If you can stand it, I can stand it. It's just... I have never done this before."

Leaning in, she brushed his temple with her nose.

"Me neither."

"Dr. Brennan?"

He jumped up, as her name was announced, pulling her to her feet. The doctor's assistant greeted them with a mixture of humor and patience on her face.

"You're here to confirm a pregnancy?"

Two nods.

"Follow me, please. Your husband wants to be present?"

"He is not my husband, but he will be there."

Brennan felt him flinch beside her and squeezed his hand to reassure him.

"Even though we are not married, we are in a very serious romantic relationship, and this child is, however unplanned, not unwanted."

"Bones," he hissed, and the nurse bit her lip not to laugh out loud.

Brennan turned her head and noticed the crimson shade of his cheeks.

"What? I don't want to convey the impression that your role in my life is less than significant. I despise measuring the depth of commitment by the label 'husband' or 'wife'," she argued, and now the nurse couldn't suppress a low chuckle. The blunt literalness of Dr. Temperance Brennan was famous in the doctor's office.

Booth groaned.

"You don't have to tell her the story of your life."

"Don't be ridiculous, this was hardly the story of my life."

They bickered their way to the exam room, and then Booth got very pale as he took in the gynecological chair. Once she was seated, wearing nothing but the pale blue examination shirt, he clasped her hand anew, and maybe he needed reassurance just a little bit more than Brennan.

Her doctor, an Afro-American woman in her fifties, seemed to be very nice, though, and Booth tried his best to follow the conversation, even though the doctor was prodding and poking _his_ woman in a way that hurt him almost physically. Then the ultrasound unit made its appearance, and, just like Brennan had assumed, it was a vaginal one. Booth swallowed hard, crushing her hand in a vice-like grip, as he tried his best not to peek.

Nausea threatened to overwhelm him, but then Brennan's soft voice rescued him.

"Booth, _look_..."

Following her gaze, he turned his head to look at the little monitor. There were shades of gray and bubbles of black, but within the blurry patterns there was something that resembled a peanut. And inside of it, a tiny dot was pulsating.

He inhaled sharply, as he was swept away by a rush of love and pride.

"Look how fast the heartbeat is," she whispered, and he lowered his head to her chest, just because he had to be close to her.

Her hand lifted on its own volition, stroking his hair.

"You can see the little arms. She's waving, Bones."

"Or he."

"It's a miracle. So big."

"So small."

"But big at the same time."

"Magnificent."

"I love you, Babe."

"I love you, too."

"She looks like you."

"You know that this statement is ridiculous, don't you? But he looks perfect."

The doctor smiled at her patient and this man who had forgotten the world. She knew that Temperance Brennan was a forensic anthropologist, that there was no need to inform her when it would be possible to know the baby's sex. Continuing her examination, the doctor enjoyed the snapshot of love that unfolded in front of her.

"Okay... Dr. Brennan, Mr. Booth? Everything looks fine so far. Your baby is developing like it should, and I believe I found a heartbeat. You wanna hear it?"

"You can do it that early?"

"Sometimes. It will be clearer in a few weeks, but it seems as if your baby is cooperative."

"She doesn't get that from you," he murmured lovingly into Brennan's hair, and then the room got very still, as the doctor switched on the speakers. The sound was faint, barely audible, like horses galloping in the distance, but it was there. It was the thumping of a heart eight weeks old – it was a sound as fragile as a dewdrop in the morning sun, but just as beautiful, just as promising.

Brennan's eyes pricked with unshed tears, and her heart softened until it was a puddle of mushiness. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she searched her partner's gaze, but when she found it, there was just the same moisture, just the same awe in his deep brown eyes.

"That's our baby," she whispered, and he nodded with a watery smile, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Later, when they were riding in his car, Brennan regarded the ultrasound photo in her hand like a treasure. Their baby... it had the size of a kidney bean, but it was so much bigger. And, suddenly, it felt real.

-BONES-

The next week morning sickness hit her with full force. More than once Brennan found herself in front of her toilet, mentally cursing the course of love and intimacy that had led to the very moment where Booth was kneeling behind her, holding her hair back while she was puking her guts out. Even though the scientist inside of her knew that this was a perfectly normal bodily function, part of her was mortified that he saw her like this on a regular base. However, she had to admit, his hand rubbing her back was soothing, and not being alone in this was a warm feeling.

She experimented with ginger and herbs until she found a tea mixture that settled her queasy stomach, and soon the unpleasant nausea subsided. She had only gained four pounds so far, and it was almost funny that something so tiny could influence her in such a fundamental way. She hid the few extra pounds under loose shirts and dresses. Nobody had noticed so far, even though she felt different. She laughed more, and she cried more. About movies, about her favorite jeans which didn't fit anymore. She who had always been so rational was reigned by emotions, and sometimes she had to laugh about her own tears.

She was happy. In fact, Temperance Brennan had never been that happy in her whole life. For so long she had operated under the assumption that she lacked something when it came to feelings, but now she realized that there was a lot of space in her metaphorical heart for Seeley Booth.

They had sex, a lot of sex. Tender sex that was as soft as a violin in the darkness. Urgent sex which made it impossible to make it to the bedroom. Voluptuous sex as luscious as the scent of rain during a summer thunderstorm. Experimental sex that did very bad things to his back. But, whatever he did to her, whatever she did to him, whatever they did to each other, it was nothing short of making love. Not once.

They chased murderers. Booth knew that her field work time was limited due to FBI regulations, and he was grateful for two things. Firstly, that his overprotective heart wouldn't stop because of a gun directed at his pregnant girlfriend. Secondly, that Brennan didn't know it yet. Booth assumed she'd be furious, and he didn't look forward to pregnancy hormones mingling with her natural temper.

They were pretty much... being them... only that the nagging feeling of missing the last piece of a puzzle was gone. There were no "what ifs" anymore, no questions, and the answers were sweeter than any dream ever possible.

The right to touch her, to run his fingers through her silky hair, to kiss her whenever he wanted... alone the knowledge that his caresses were welcome and appreciated – it meant the world to him. And the best was... it meant the world to her as well.

It was sometime in the tenth week when they decided to share their secret joy with another person... the person whose opinion was the most important one.

-BONES-

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and somewhere in a Diner in Washington D.C. a boy and two adults had milk-shakes. They were a different kind of family, but the bond between them was so strong that even the waitress had to smile at the cute picture they provided.

Parker Booth didn't waste one minute of precious Bones time and had started discussing his latest science project immediately. Brennan tried her very best to pay attention to the bubbly kid, but _the secret _was distracting her profoundly, and every other minute her focus wandered to her partner. So far it had only been about them, about a new kind of intimacy and about something that had already surpassed the size of a sesame seed and a blueberry. Telling Parker about it was the first of many huge steps yet to come, and Brennan was surprised to find out how nervous she was.

When he felt a not so subtle kick in the region of his shins, Booth finally cleared his throat.

"Parks, there is something we wanna tell you."

Interrupting his monologue, the boy turned his head around to ogle his father.

"Something good or something bad? You haven't broken up, have you? You're not leaving again?"

The child's pleading look wandered from Booth to Brennan, and both of them hurried to shake their heads.

"No, Parker, we're not leaving. Your father and I are in a relationship."

An adorable smile lit up the boy's face.

"So you're his girlfriend? That's cool Bones, really. I totally approve."

Brennan frowned.

"Even though I'm not so fond of the term 'girlfriend', the implication is correct."

"What is it, then? You look awfully serious."

"Parker," Booth took a deep breath, twisting his glass in his hands, "we are having a baby."

Silence. More silence. Finally Parker's eyes got as big as saucers.

"A baby?" he whispered, his gaze dropping to Brennan's midsection.

"Yes... I am pregnant," she confirmed.

"Oh my Gosh! Prove it to me!" Parker insisted, and Booth regarded his child with a quizzical look.

"Prove it to you?"

"Yes. This is huge, Dad, huge! I _have_ to be sure."

Booth was lost for words, but, ever so pragmatic, Brennan opened her handbag in search of the ultrasound photo. Parker took it out of her hands, studying the black and white patterns with care. On the top side of the picture he could read Brennan's name and the date of the ultrasound. Finally, his face started to beam.

"A baby," he whispered in awe.

"Are you okay with that, Bub? You know, I will always love you, just like Mom, and Bones loves you as well."

Parker rolled his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dad. I'm ten years old, I'm not jealous. I'm gonna be a brother! A brother!" he cried out before he threw himself into his father's arms.

Booth caught his son in utter relief, ruffling the blond curls.

"A brother," he murmured into Parker's hair, and Brennan's heart clenched briefly in sudden joy before the boy flew into her arms for a fierce hug.

"Oh, Bones, this will be great! We are gonna be an awesome family. May I touch it?"

She nodded.

"Of course."

Little hands wandered under her wide shirt, poking and tickling her in search of evidence. She couldn't suppress a giggle. Parker frowned.

"I cannot feel it."

"It's too early, Parker, the baby is only as big as a fig."

"When will it be born?"

"Early in the new year."

"Can _you_ feel it?"

Brennan shook her head.

"No. I've experienced an unpleasant period of morning sickness, and my breasts have grown, but those are the only things I've noticed so far."

"Bones," Booth groaned, but she shrugged it off.

"It's biology, Booth. I'm positive that Parker is aware of my breasts."

The boy nodded, delighted as always that Brennan didn't treat him like a little kid.

"Bones breasts will produce milk for the baby, Dad."

"Hey, I do know that!"

"So, my Daddy's penis was in your vagina?"

"Parker!"

"That's correct."

"Bones!"

Booth buried his face in his palms, unwilling to stand another lecture about biology.

"You know what? I'll use the restroom, and as soon as I'm back every conversation about penises and vaginas has stopped."

Two pairs of big eyes followed him on his way to the bathroom.

"Sorry, Parker, your father can be very sensitive."

Parker laughed it off.

"It's okay, Mom is better at penis talks anyways."

"So, you're truly happy?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely. But... Bones, don't tell Dad because God loves every child and so on, but, please, can you make sure to make me a sister?"

"I'm afraid, but I cannot do that."

"Come on, please. You're a super scientist, I totally believe you could do it. Come on, a little girl, how awesome would that be?" he asked with a smaller version of the famous Booth charming smile.

"Why do you want a sister?"

"I want to protect her."

"Oh, Parker, the baby will be very helpless in the beginning, you'd have to protect a brother as well."

He ogled her indecisively.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. This baby will need a big brother very much."

"Hmm. I could play football with a brother."

"Yes, but you could play football with a sister as well."

"So... it doesn't really make a difference?"

Skipping a lecture about gender studies, Brennan shook her head.

"Not at all."

"Okay, then. But, still, Bones, I'd prefer a sister."

Booth came back to the table, and Parker flashed him a smile that was just a tad too innocent. Furrowing his brow, he looked at Brennan for any clue, but she was very busy with her milk-shake.

"Anything you want to tell me?"

"Nope," they said in unison, and he rolled his eyes.

"Okay, then. Anybody up for the amusement park?"

"Yeah!"

Parker threw his hand up in the air, but then his face got serious.

"But Bones isn't allowed to go on a carrousel. It could be bad for our baby."

_Our baby_...

Warmth spread out in her chest, as she regarded the boy and his father, and two thoughts battled in her head. Falling in love with them was the best thing that had ever happened to her. But from now on there would be two overprotective Booth men guarding her very step. Her hand found her belly, cupping the soft hint of a swelling. This baby would be loved, but she'd have to make sure that he or she would be allowed to walk on their own before the age of two.

-BONES-

Later that evening they dropped a talkative Parker off at his mother's, and as soon as Booth had started the vehicle again, Brennan fell back into her seat with a long sigh.

"I find it interesting that, by Parker's definition, a simple merry-go-round is too dangerous for the baby while I'm allowed to eat as much cotton candy as I desire."

Booth chuckled.

"He's already in big brother mood."

"This baby will be spoiled."

Comfortable silence settled over them, and her hand reached out to fondle the soft hair on his nape.

"You're happy?"

He gave her a brief but warm glance out of deep brown everything.

"Over the moon."

"I'm very pleased about his reaction myself. Parker will be a splendid big brother."

"Bones?"

"Hmm?"

"What did he tell you while I was gone?"

"He asked me to keep it as a secret."

"Why?"

"You aren't allowed to be mad."

"I won't, I promise."

"He wants a sister."

"Huh? Why should I be mad about that?"

"Because, apparently, God loves every child."

Booth laughed out.

"Smart kid of mine. Yeah, but... a girl would be great."

"You'd prefer a daughter?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged.

"One way of the other, I'd be happy. But a little girl, a baby Bones with your dark hair... your big blue eyes, your long lashes, your amazing brain," he sighed, "that would be wonderful."

Her chin dimpled, and one more time Brennan cursed the stupid pregnancy hormones while tenderness threatened to get the best of her. She had gotten awfully quiet, and he risked another quick glance.

"Hey, please, don't _you_ be mad."

"I'm not mad, Booth, nowhere near mad in fact. It's just... the softer side of life... feelings, people – it has always been so hard for me. I've always felt," she shrugged helplessly, "disabled somehow. And here you are, telling me that you want a mini version of me. That's... that's so... nice," she whispered, and his heart expanded wider than ever at her unhidden vulnerability.

"You are so wonderful to me, Honey, so perfect. You are most definitely not disabled, and the fact that you struggled, that love didn't come naturally to you? It reveals a lot about your big heart, and it makes it even more precious. This child will be unique. It will be like you and like me. Just perfect in its very own way. But a little daughter who looks at me with your eyes? That's a fantasy to keep you warm at night."

Brennan turned around in her seat until she could take in his clear-cut profile.

"I'm there to keep you warm at night."

He smiled at her literalness.

"And you do a wonderful job."

"I'd like to hug you very much right now."

"As tempting as it sounds, it'd violate every rule of driving safety."

"I know."

"In about five minutes we will be at home, my dear. I will wrap you in a blanket, take you in my arms, and then we can collapse on the couch. Maybe even watch a documentation that was just made to be dissected and corrected by you."

"Or sports," she offered, but he chuckled, remembering the last time he had watched a game with her.

"I don't need another anthropological lecture about hockey so soon, thank you very much."

"And then you can make love to me."

"Always."

To be continued...

_Awww, this was fun :-) Anyways, I should make the most of my M rating. So, be prepared for some smut coming your way. It still counts as making love._


	8. A Craving

IIV. A Craving

Summer deepened while Temperance Brennan's life changed simultaneously to her body. She was approaching the end of the first trimester of her pregnancy, the crucial line, and while she brushed her teeth one uneventful Thursday morning, she wondered about lines.

Once there had been a line Booth had drawn. It had said, "You may not have sex with your partner." Then there had been another line, this one even more invisible, engraved into her heart. It had whispered, "You may not risk losing him." In a night where life had met death they had crossed those lines, and soon, way too soon she had found herself in a hospital restroom waiting for a line to appear.

The end of her pregnancy's first trimester was just another line, just another milestone but lines... Brennan had learned that, in the end, they only have the meaning you concede to them.

Rinsing her mouth, she smiled at Booth's reflection in the mirror. He had manifested next to her with tousled hair, reaching for his toothbrush. The one he owned in her apartment was green. Hers in his bathroom was yellow. Those little, mundane details... to her they would forever be evidence of something big.

Another line she had crossed.

She was in love. And was building herself a life around it.

"You wanna meet for lunch?" he muttered while spitting out, and she nodded.

She, him, it was so breathtakingly wonderful in its ordinariness.

"Sure."

"I could bring those veggie burgers you love so much."

"I'd prefer beetroot soup."

He twisted his face.

"Uh, Baby, that's gross. As much as I love you and this mini you, you have to work on your cravings."

She laughed.

"Sorry, I cannot help it. So far your child chooses vegetables over meat."

"You're jinxing her."

"I wouldn't know how."

Grabbing her by her waist, he pulled her close. These days she felt heavier in his arms, and Booth enjoyed it immensely.

"Hmm," he mused, pecking her lips. "Maybe you're blackmailing her. 'Crave gross food or I'll detach you from my bloody circulation.'"

"Blood circulation."

"Whatever."

Her arms wrapped themselves around his back, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. He smelled like intimacy in the morning, still warm from sleep.

"I would never blackmail our child. He wants meat, he'd get meat. Vegetarianism should be a free choice."

"Have I told you lately how wonderful you feel?" he murmured, showering her neck with kisses.

With a sigh she tilted her head to give him better access.

"Every day," she answered because it was the truth.

Every day he told her, how much she meant to him, in words or unspoken, every day she felt beautiful because of him, every day was special... because he was there.

"It cannot be said often enough. You're beautiful. Wonderful. Hot. Mine."

She laughed.

"Possessive pronouns don't count as adjectives."

"Any objections?" he asked, nibbling her skin.

Her body began to react to his caresses, and she shook her head. In fact, Brennan had gotten quite attached to possessive pronouns herself.

"No... Don't stop."

Using his free hand, Booth loosened the tie of her robe, his hand roaming over silky white skin. His mouth captured her rosy lips in a kiss that tasted like him and toothpaste. As always, she poured everything into her kiss – once Temperance Brennan had committed herself to something, she'd do it with undivided focus – and placing her on the vanity and settling between her smooth thighs happened in one swift motion.

He knew her, he knew her intimately, but Booth was perfectly sure that he would never get enough of the sensation of her soft tongue in his mouth, of her responding body in his arms. His hand slid down her sides, skimming her belly before settling on her hip.

"I can feel the difference," he murmured between kisses, and she chuckled.

"Are you implying that I'm fat?"

"Hmm... let me feel again."

His fingers tickled over her soft belly, setting her ablaze, and desire was pooling deep inside of her. She had just had him last night, slowly and sensually, but Brennan felt that she craved him again. Only a few months ago Angela had complained – well, she hadn't exactly used that word – about her increased sexual appetite, and Brennan mused that it wasn't exactly wise to get pregnant during the honeymoon period of a relationship... because... the desire to crawl into Booth? It had changed, but not stopped.

His hands on her became the center of her world, and just when he lowered his head to suck the very sensitive peak of her breast, a sonorous ringing interrupted her sweet ache.

"Nooooo," she groaned, and his head fell to her shoulder with a gasp.

"Agreed."

"Maybe you don't have to answer it?"

"Temperance Brennan, a crime scene could be compromised."

She sighed.

"I know. It's just... they're already dead. I'm _alive_."

He chuckled.

"Hormones speaking again?"

"Maybe," she admitted reluctantly.

He gave her a last passionate kiss before hurrying away to answer the call. Brennan sighed in defeat, closing her robe. Her body was tingling in a way that would be pleasant if they could go back to bed. However, work was not on the list of her favorite places to be right now.

Booth came back a few moments later, the traitorous phone still in his hand.

"A case?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"Worse."

"What could be worse than murder?"

"Meeting with Hacker."

Not even a flinch betrayed her feelings.

"Andrew is a very nice man."

"A very nice man who has dated my woman."

"We never had sex."

"Nonetheless."

"I never loved him."

"Still."

"Will you ever forgive me?" she asked, suddenly serious, and he took in her tousled early morning beauty.

It was for him, just for him. He was the only one allowed to see her like this, to know this side of her. Closing the distance to her in two long strides, he took her in his arms.

"I already have. It's just... he knows about the eggs. And you're mine."

Stroking his back, she tried to soothe him with her mere presence.

"I know. Are we still up for lunch?"

"Absolutely."

-BONES-

Lunchtime came and went by without a sign of Booth in the Jeffersonian. She tried to call his cell once, but it went straight to voicemail. Bound and determined not to be a clinging girlfriend – even though she still disliked the term – Brennan wrote him a text message and ordered herself a cucumber-mushroom sandwich. She enjoyed it immensely. Booth would have called it disgusting.

She spent most of the day in her office, working on an article, but as opposed to her usual ability to lose herself in science, Brennan found it quite hard to concentrate today. She felt flushed somehow, and whenever she moved and the satiny fabric of her cream-colored tunic shirt tautened around her full breasts, it sent tingles of... something through her body, centering low in her belly, meeting the colony of butterflies which was fluttering there.

More than once did she curse the phone call which had interrupted their amorous activities earlier that day. His kiss had tasted so good, his skin had been so warm, so smooth...

Rubbing her temples with a sigh, Brennan tried to focus on the words on her computer screen, as an energetic voice interrupted her musings.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Looking up, Brennan found the tall silhouette of her boss lingering in the door frame.

"Dr. Saroyan, how can I help you?"

"I just got a call from Dr. Goodman. As you might now, he's currently working in Peru."

Brennan nodded.

"I know, he emailed me a few weeks ago. The project is about the cave paintings of an ancient mountain tribe."

"Yes. Apparently they stumbled upon some very valuable remains, and he demands your expertise."

"I am not willing to travel to Peru right now."

Cam waved it off.

"Neither am I willing to let you go. He ships them to us. So, be prepared for some very old bones coming your way."

Brennan nodded, relieved that she didn't have to explain why exactly she didn't want to travel.

"Sure. I can do that."

Cam rubbed her hands.

"Fine."

Apparently, their conversation was over, but Cam didn't move and regarded her coworker curiously.

"Is there something else, Dr. Saroyan?"

"I don't know. You look feverish somehow. And your eyes... they are glassy. Aren't you feeling well?"

'I'm fine,' was about to tumble out of her mouth, but Brennan stopped herself.

"I feel... kind of hot and dizzy."

It wasn't technically a lie.

"That doesn't sound good. Any other symptoms?"

"My stomach is a little bit queasy."

"Maybe you're coming up with a flu. You should go home and stay in bed for the rest of the day."

Brennan was torn, really torn as the duteous scientist and the hormone-ruled woman fought inside of her, but Cam misinterpreted her reluctance.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm your boss after all. Go home. It's an order."

Brennan shrugged, as if in defeat.

"If you insist on it..."

"I do. Feel better soon. And if you need something, call me," Cam offered, walking on the uncommon ground of friendship.

It wasn't as if she didn't like Temperance Brennan, but sometimes it was just so hard to set aside everything they were and had been. Brennan's gaze softened, and Cam was almost surprised.

"Thank you. It might not be necessary, though."

"Should I call Booth?"

Something like caution flickered through the other woman's eyes.

"Why should you do that?" Brennan asked carefully.

Cam shrugged.

"Well, it looks as if the two of you have been able to rebuild your friendship. You seem to be kind of close again. I'm sorry if I overstepped my boundaries."

Brennan gave her boss an incredulous gaze, and Cam waved dismissively.

"Yes, you're right, scratch the last sentence."

"I might call Booth myself."

"Do that. I'm leaving now."

"I'm not stopping you."

Shaking her head in confusion, Cam turned around on her heels. Even after all those years and despite the sincere fondness she harbored for her coworker, Cam still found her kind of intimidating at times. There was something about her posture, something about the way her brain worked... however, Cam didn't find it hard to understand at all, why one sturdy FBI agent had fallen for those blue eyes such a long time ago. Lost in musings, she forgot to wonder how easy it had been to send Dr. Temperance Brennan home in the middle of a work day.

4 pm that afternoon found Brennan in the FBI shooting range. She had tried the Hoover first, but Booth's office had been empty. One of the other agents – Charley? Carlos? – had told her about a four hours meeting and an argument between Booth and Hacker. Knowing Booth, the gun range was the next logical choice, and she spotted him almost immediately.

His body was cocked like a weapon itself, and he radiated a dark kind of strength mingled with fury. Watching him, Brennan was surprised by a rush of weakness in her stomach, and she inhaled deeply, as she felt moisture pooling between her legs.

He was always so gentle, so fondly with her, and this darker side of him was one she hadn't witnessed in quite a while. She knew that he was strong, that there was an angry kind of passion as well. Usually it was hidden underneath warm eyes and a cocky smile, but right now... right now it was unleashed.

Brennan watched him open-mouthed, her eyes fever-bright, her breathing labored, her cheeks hot. She felt like a primeval female who had stumbled upon the alpha male in hunting mode, and when he turned around, as if sensing her presence, she became his prey.

Their gazes met, and blue pierced into brown, as, for one wild heartbeat, they were naked in front of each other. Then the riots in his dark orbs calmed, as he rebuilt his walls of caution, and Brennan hurried to approach him, raising her hand to touch his arm.

"Don't," she demanded, and he regarded her with ire and confusion.

"You don't have to hide," she murmured, and he growled.

"I'm pissed, but it isn't your fault."

"I know, but maybe I could help to relief your tension."

He laughed bitterly.

"How so? I want to punch or shoot something. Preferably Hacker."

"What about sex?" she asked seriously, and he arched an eyebrow at her.

"Sex? Really? Well, I guess I could take you to the old ammo room, lift your skirt and take you right against the wall. But, oh, wait a moment, you're my pregnant woman who I love and respect," he exclaimed in something which – even to her ears – sounded like irony.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm so much more than only your pregnant woman. Where's that room?"

"No, forget it, Bones."

Now he was mad again, but this time it was directed at her. Brennan tilted her head, and her rosy tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

"You're doing that on purpose," he growled, and she just shrugged, peeling off his clothes with her gaze.

"Take me to that room," she demanded. "And then... take me. Right against the wall."

He took her hand almost harshly, and she was walking on dizziness, as she followed him. A door opened, closed again, and then they were captured in darkness.

"This is so wrong," he uttered right before his lips crashed onto hers in a kiss that was as consuming as the fire which burned inside of her.

"It cannot be wrong when we both want it," she managed to reason, but then she lost herself in the sensation, as passion turned into another kind of passion.

Moans and the musky scent of desire filled the abandoned room, and soon her nimble fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until, finally, his smooth and hard flesh was bare for her to touch. He simply lifted her tunic shirt over her head and lost no time before his wet mouth closed over her bra-clad nipple. Her cry was muffled by his hair, and Brennan spread her legs as far as the skirt allowed, pulling him between her thighs. She could feel the cold metal of his cocky belt buckle and, right below it, another kind of hardness.

"Yes," she breathed, her head falling back. It hit the wall with a low thump, and, immediately, his hand snapped up to cup her nape.

Brennan smiled into the darkness, reveling in this tiny gesture of protection. As much as she loved him, she knew the loud call of biological imperatives. But a simple moment of considerateness, like his hand supporting her head without even thinking about it, told her that they could never have just sex; it would always be woven with love. She didn't need the reassurance, but she knew that he might need it later, and so she filed the information away.

Tugging at his head, she demanded his lips anew, and he kissed her until she couldn't breathe anymore, until the rhythm of his tongue dueling with hers mimicked the throbbing between her legs. Squirming, she tried to get even closer to him, and he groaned at the additional friction.

"More," she gasped, and he inhaled a shuddered breath, as he lifted her skirt in one swift motion.

His hand brushed her belly in the process, and he faltered, his resolve crumbling.

"Please, I want you," she added, and after another fierce kiss she turned around in his arms, bracing herself on the wall.

Her buttocks were pressed into his aching groins, and Booth was overwhelmed by strange dizziness. Her scent was calling out to him, so female, so familiar, so intoxicating. Lowering himself, he wrapped his arms around her, his lips landing on her shoulder blade. His fingers moved down her body, finally slipping into her panties, meeting her slick heat. So warm. So wet. For him, it was all for him.

She whimpered, as he touched her, grazed and caressed her in the way she liked, tapping her oversensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of one finger.

"Inside me. Now," she uttered, and he curved one long finger to dip into her core.

A whimper escaped her lips, but it was partly born out of frustration.

"You know what I mean. Now, Booth, or I'll give you a reason to be really mad."

His anger was long forgotten, replaced by a different kind of pressure, and without further delay he opened belt buckle and zipper, pulling down his clothes. Pragmatic as always, Brennan had already lowered her panties, and when he reached for her, he found nothing but soft and naked skin. His cock twitched at the prospect of being buried deep inside of her, and she felt it against her flesh, opening her legs even wider in silent response.

Aligning himself, Booth took a deep breath to regain some of his composure.

"I love you," he growled.

"I know," she answered.

Then he thrust forward in one long stroke. Home. And heaven. Her silky muscles gripped him immediately, and his moan was carried away by her own.

"Oh God..."

"Yes..."

They rocked together – as always – and she met his every stroke. He was moving between her legs, sliding in and out of her, and every reasonable thought left her as she was filled by wicked delight. This was exactly what she had needed, and it was a fortunate coincidence that it happened to be just what he needed as well. Even though she had had to convince him.

Friction was building rapidly, and she tilted her pelvis to take him in deeper. He stretched her perfectly, and being connected with him was the most exquisite feeling ever. Grabbing her hips, Booth pulled her closer and closer and closer into his body. One hand moved around her, diving between her legs, and when he brushed her clit with his callous forefinger – the one he used to fire a weapon – she lost it, and suddenly the dark room was filled by dazzling light. Metaphorically speaking.

She arched her back and went rigid in his arms, and Booth held her and caught her, as he pistoned into her over and over again until his own being was swept away by liquid heat. With a gasp he emptied himself into her welcoming body, right before collapsing on her bent back.

Darkness covered their overheated bodies, darkness swallowed their ragged breathings. When he could move again, Booth slid out of her, turning her around in his arms, enveloping her completely. Her arms tightened around him, giving just as much as she accepted. Their lips met in a kiss that betrayed their frantic coupling with its tenderness

"This was long overdue," she murmured eventually.

"The gun range?"

"Yes. Remember that fight we had here? In the very beginning?"

"Every second of it."

_Be a cop_... She had challenged him like no one else had ever done, and he could still see her young face, her red lips. He had cornered her, but she had stood her ground, and the air between them had crackled with electricity. Oh, yes, he had already wanted her back then.

"Take me home, Booth."

-BONES-

They managed to leave the shooting range on wobbly legs, slightly disheveled but unseen, and when they arrived at home half an hour later – his place this time – she lost no time to change into cozy yoga pants and one of his shirts.

"I'm going to bed," she announced upon coming out of the bathroom, and he arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"At five o'clock?"

"Cam sent me home, suggesting bed rest. Apparently, I'm coming down with a flu."

"A flu? Are you okay?"

"I was a little bit hot and distracted today."

"Hot and distracted?"

"I doubt it was a flu, though, but the prospect of leaving work early was quite appealing. Are you coming?"

"Yep. I'll just grab a quick shower beforehand."

Ten minutes later he joined her on the bed, a bowl of ice cream and two spoons in his hands. Her mouth watered immediately, and for a few minutes the cold sweetness demanded their full attention. Finally the events of the day came back.

"What happened during your meeting?"

Lost in thoughts, Booth pondered his answer. In retrospective it was ridiculous, nothing even.

"Hacker happened. He did the peacock thing you once described."

"Alpha males battling for dominance?"

"I think so. Of course it doesn't help when there is a certain female peacock in the picture."

Her face saddened.

"Booth... Do you know why I went out with him in the first place?"

"Not really."

"Because it was easy. He didn't mean the world to me... like you. With Andrew, there was nothing to lose."

"You went out with my boss because you loved me too much?"

She frowned.

"Put like this, it sounds weird, even though it felt reasonable back then. He was never important to me, Booth, never. You have to believe me. You're my only peacock."

His heart melted until it was as soft as the ice cream residues in their bowl. Only warmer, so much warmer.

"I'm very happy to be your peacock. Bones... I'm sorry about earlier. I've been so angry and I shouldn't touch you when I feel like that."

"Your hand."

"What?"

"Even though you were angry, you lifted your hand to protect my head when it hit the wall. I noticed it. You could never hurt me, never. Not even in your darkest moments of anger. With you, I always feel cherished. Besides, I was the one luring you into that room."

He crawled to her for a soft and sticky kiss.

"You are amazing, Baby."

"I know. But you are very amazing yourself."

More kisses were shared, and after a while they tasted less like ice cream and more like Booth. Brennan opened her arms for him, accepting his tenderness just like she had accepted his unrestrained passion.

She let him make love to her, sweetly and slowly, because she knew that he needed it for his cosmic balance sheet. And because she needed it as well.

-BONES-

Her "flu" disappeared miraculously overnight, and Friday morning found Temperance Brennan back to her usual professional self. The remains Dr. Goodman had sent piqued her interest, and she worked in concentration until a familiar voice called her name. A quick glance at her watch confirmed that it was indeed time for lunch.

"Bones?"

"I'm here."

He manifested in the door frame, a smug grin on his face.

"Lunch?"

"I could eat."

"The Diner?"

"Works for me."

The waitress didn't even bother to bring them the menu – a burger for him, soup for her – and soon the two partners enjoyed their meals. A shared plate of fries was standing between them, and every once in a while their greasy fingers met, and she flashed him a cute smile.

She told him about Dr. Goodman's work in Peru, and Booth remembered the former director of the Jeffersonian with fondness. He mentioned the brief elevator talk with Hacker that morning, very professional, no peacock behavior this time, and she poked him affectionately with her foot.

He had ordered pie for dessert, and, as usual, she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the idea of cooked fruit. However, something was different today, and soon the scent of sugary apples mingled with cinnamon hit her nostrils. Her mouth watered, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

"I want pie," she stated, and his face lit up in unexpected joy.

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely. Give it to me."

He pushed the plate in her direction, and she took the fork without hesitation, digging into his dessert. The pie was soft, melting on her tongue. Part of her knew that she should dislike it, but today Brennan couldn't help but savor every sweet drop of apple juice, every last crumble.

Even though he had lost his pie, Booth watched her with profound satisfaction and pride.

"My child wants pie," he finally whispered in awe, and she rolled her eyes.

"You know what? I don't even care how much healthy stuff she wants to have, as long as she loves pie. This is my child, Bones, my child!"

"I know that it is your child."

"Yes, of course, but_ she is my kid_!"

"She _or he_. And this doesn't make any sense, Booth. It's just pie."

"No, I disagree. Sweets has said it stands for seduction. I don't believe that, but it is most definitely more than just pie."

"I'm glad that I could make you happy by stealing your dessert."

He nodded enthusiastically, and she thought it was quite cute but found it wise not to tell him.

"We should go back to work."

"Your mummies are that interesting?"

"Very much so."

"'Mummies and murders' – that could be the title of our story, Bones."

"Our story?"

"Yeah, you know, for a book maybe."

"I believe-"

They would never know what she believed because that moment an elderly man slipped onto the chair next to her.

"Dad!"

"Tempe. Booth."

"What are you doing here, Max?"

"Dropping by, saying hello."

"You don't do that, Dad. Are you in trouble?"

"Well, I've been thrown out of my bowling team thanks to your little charade, but apart from this, I'm fine. I'm leaving for LA tomorrow, a job thing."

"A job thing? Don't believe I wouldn't arrest you just because your daughter is my... partner."

Max chuckled.

"Why should I? Didn't stop you the first time. Relax, it's a consultant job. For a movie about bank robbers."

Brennan watched him with mouth agape.

"Reaping the benefits of your criminal past? This is so wrong."

"Ah, well, it could be fun. I have to go now. By the way, congrats on the baby. Both of you."

For a man with a cane, Max Keenan moved quite smoothly, and he was out of the Diner before the two partners had been able to gather their jaws from the floor. They regarded each other with dumbness.

"That was weird."

"Well, that was my father."

"You aren't worried how he found out?"

"I decided a long time ago not to think too hard about Max' sources."

"At least he didn't threaten to kill me."

"He would never do that, he knows how important you are to me. I think he was aware of it right from the beginning."

"Now he knows."

"Yes, he knows."

They gazes met and held until they dropped simultaneously to her hidden belly. She was thirteen weeks pregnant, and their baby had the size of a shrimp – a fact that amused and pleased her deeply. It was time to tell the world.

To be continued...


	9. A Bump

IX. A Bump

Telling everyone that you are in a relationship with the woman you have not-so-secretly loved for the last years is big. Adding to it that you are expecting a child with her is bigger than big. Admitting that said child wasn't exactly planned is almost a little bit embarrassing for two people who were usually so very good at both planning and procrastinating.

Pick one reason, and it alone would explain why Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan were nervous and thrilled at the same time to reveal the change in their relationship to everyone. They talked about it a lot. She had something like, "Here are your results, Dr. Saroyan. And, by the way, I'm pregnant," in mind. He had the suspicious feeling that there had to be betting pools. Hell, a few years ago he would have run one by himself. Even though he believed strongly in _theirs_, Booth knew that a lot of people had witnessed their love story unfold, that there were more observers than he really liked.

Two more weeks passed by while they couldn't really make up their mind, but, truth be told, it didn't weigh too heavily on them. Brennan was blooming. To him who knew it was obvious that she was pregnant; not only had her body gained a few pleasant curves, she was also surrounded by a dazzling glow. Of course, he wasn't really objective when it came to her beauty, but Booth found himself more and more enchanted by her.

Brennan was just... rolling with it. After the morning sickness had subsided, she wasn't really bothered by her pregnancy, and for most of the time she simply enjoyed being a woman in love. It was still unfamiliar at times, but oh so sweet. Last week, shopping for groceries, she had experienced a moment of awe right between the dairy aisle and the ice cream freezer cabinet. Her shopping list had been neat and organized as always, but right on the bottom she had found his carefree handwriting.

_Oreos. _

_Toothpaste._

Not exactly the most romantic words ever written, but they had been proof of the new reality she was living, and her face had lit up in innocent glee. They were sharing a life. Even though there were still his place and her place, both had become kind of _theirs_.

On her way to the checkout counter a daringly colored pair of socks had caught her attention, and, without thinking twice, she had added it to her cart. Thinking about the significant other without really thinking about it – it was exactly what women in love do, and Temperance Brennan had always had an exceptionally steep learning curve.

Lolling on her couch one quiet Saturday afternoon, Brennan was partly waiting for Booth to return from the gym and partly doing nothing at all. A little wrapped gift was resting on her belly, and she watched it rising and sinking with every breath she took. Not so long ago she had always been busy, vibrating with energy like a humming bee. Now that she was about to turn into a bumble-bee – Brennan chuckled silently and congratulated herself on the simile; she was really becoming quite amusing – she had learned to see the purpose in being, at first glance, purposeless. In fact, her life felt even fuller since she allowed herself the occasional hour of laziness.

She had always been a morning person. He loved to sleep in and could be quite grumpy after a few nights of sleep deprivation. She needed a tidy apartment to relax, while he had an undeniable tendency to messiness. They had managed to meet somewhere in the middle. It wasn't as if he had adopted her rhythm or she his, somehow they had created a new one. And the rest... the rest were compromises of love.

Once he had asked for "forever". She still couldn't give him that promise, she simply didn't believe in it. But she could give him moments, and if they summed up to "forever", Brennan would be the last to object. She had learned that they both yearned for the same thing; they just had different ways to label it. They spoke different languages, but it didn't mean that they couldn't understand each other. Plus, there was one language they had in common: the promises of kisses, the unspoken commitment that lay in a touch, in a caress.

One way or another, they had always understood each other. Because he knew her, and she knew him.

A key in the door – his very own key – alerted her to his approach, and she smiled down at the little gift.

"Hey Bones."

His voice vibrated through the apartment, followed by the man himself. Booth strode the room with the elegance of a warrior, bending over to place a soft kiss in her hair. And another one on her lips.

"Hey yourself," she answered, looping her arms around his neck.

He withdrew quickly.

"I'm all sweaty."

"I know," she said, pulling him closer again, her tongue trailing the salty path to the column of his throat.

"Hmm," he hummed in appreciation, his hands clasping her shoulders.

Finally his gaze fell to her midsection, noticing the wrapped little something.

"You have a gift for me?" he asked, sounding hopeful and childlike at the same time.

"I believe I do."

Booth brought himself at eye level with her by dropping to his knees next to the couch. She looked so soft and relaxed, only one thing tensed about her, and that was the thin shirt hugging her belly. Tilting his head, he placed a quick kiss on top of the little bump.

"Hi baby."

"He cannot hear you, Booth."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep ignoring it."

"Don't listen to her, baby. Sometimes your mommy is way too rational."

Brennan rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a smirk.

"You're starting showing," he stated, his gaze wandering from her abdomen back to her face, surrounding her with chocolate-brown warmth. "So beautiful," he murmured close to her lips before claiming her for a sweet kiss.

Lips locking, tongues sweeping over each other. Her scent whispering, "Welcome home," her taste so utterly familiar. He sighed into her mouth and could feel her smile. They broke apart after a while, foreheads resting against each other. Finally, he remembered something.

"Ahem, about that present..."

She laughed that kind of throaty laughter he loved so much and gave him the small gift.

"It's nothing. I just saw it the other day and had to think of you. You wanna open it?"

"Absolutely," he beamed, ripping off the blue gift wrapping.

A pair of socks fell into his open palm, and he had to chuckle at the bright colors. Then he recognized the pattern because on the socks themselves there were a lot of tiny shoes, and right in between he could read a five-letter-word that caused his heart to clench. He swallowed quickly.

"Aw, Bones, you bought me 'Daddy' socks?"

She nodded, sporting an almost shy smile.

"They were calling out to me somehow. And I know that this gesture is overly sentimental," she stated with a frown, "but I couldn't help myself."

"I love them," he exclaimed, peppering soft kisses along her arm. "And look, you chose gender neutral colors," he chuckled, taking in the yellow and green yarn.

She nodded vehemently.

"Of course. Despite your tendency to pretend otherwise, we don't know the sex yet."

With one swift move he scooped her up in his arms and plopped onto the couch with her in his lap. His nose brushed hers while he cradled her lovingly.

"You know I'd be over the moon about a little boy as well, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered without a hint of doubt.

"It's just... I'm so happy, and if it makes us 'overly sentimental', I don't care. I love my socks, Bones."

"I love your socks as well. You could wear them tonight."

They were supposed to attend an exhibition opening at the Jeffersonian that night, but, truth be told, he had already forgotten what the exhibition was about, and even though the squints could be fun, he wasn't overly eager to spend a Saturday evening in the museum. On the other hand, she would be next to him, probably wearing a beautiful dress, and he would make sure to hold her hand all evening long. They were done pretending and hiding, and while he patted the soft swelling of her belly, Booth pondered if they could kill two birds with one stone.

"What are you gonna wear tonight?" he asked, his lips caressing her auricle as he spoke.

"I bought a new dress. It's black, very elegant, Empire cut. I won't look pregnant."

"You know, Bones," now he was nibbling her earlobe, and she moaned barely audibly, "maybe you should wear something very tight instead."

"You really think so? Shouldn't we talk to them at first?"

"Let your body speak, Baby."

She giggled, partly because of his words and partly because of his weekend stubble tickling her neck.

"Fine, but I have to call Angela beforehand. She'll kill me if she isn't the first to know."

"Fair enough."

His mouth slanted down on hers anew, and they kissed each other for a few timeless heartbeats. Finally her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, smelling fresh sweat mingled with his natural scent. So delicious. So intoxicating. He held her in his arms as if she was a dainty doll, weighing nothing, and she admired his strength.

"You wanna take a shower?"

Brennan surprised him by jumping to her feet and tugging at his hand.

"Are you telling me that I stink?"

"No, I merely want you naked and slippery under my hands," she answered honestly.

His pants got very tight at her blunt words, and one more time he was amazed by the power she held over him.

"Okay," he croaked, following her lead enthusiastically.

Her shower stall was big, providing more luxury than his tub/shower curtain combination, and five minutes later Booth found himself under the warm spray. She was lathering him with shower gel right now, not missing one inch of skin, and being the center of her undivided focus gave him a ridiculous kick. She even had that little line of concentration between her brows.

He was so helplessly in love with her.

His body was hard under her hands, had been hard since she had first touched him, and he was burning so softly from the inside out.

"Bones," he whispered, taking the sponge out of her hands, spinning her around until he was pinning her against the tiled wall.

"Booth," she pouted," I wasn't ready yet."

"I was," he answered, and without preamble his mouth lowered to her neck while two of his fingers plunged into her.

She gasped, and then he gasped as well because she was already so wet. He pumped in and out while her own hand grasped his velvet-hard shaft, stroking in a rhythm that matched his own. Eyes wide open, he searched her gaze, meeting her dazed blue. She nodded at his unspoken question, and when he lifted her, Brennan's legs tightened around his hips in a secure lock. Tilting his head, he captured one dusky nipple, sucking the stiff bud into his mouth.

Her head fell back on a whimper, and, rocking his pelvis, he entered her with one simple stroke. The sensation made her almost delirious, and she held on to him with every limb she owned.

"Oh, Bones," he moaned, shivers running down his spine at the silky sensation of the perfect fit.

"Love me," she whispered against his lips.

The sound of the spraying water carried away their sighs and groans; the steam in the shower stall almost as thick as the heat they were creating between themselves. It would be over fast, they both knew it, but they weren't in a hurry, and he moved deliciously slowly inside of her. This woman who was so soft and heavy in his arms right now – she was still the same woman he had laughed with, drank with, chased murderers with. He had always suspected passion and vulnerability underneath her cool appearance, and over the years he had gotten a few glimpses every now and then. They had gone straight to his heart, every single one.

There was nothing cool about the Temperance Brennan who was clinging to him in this very moment, trembling in his arms. She was open, so open, and, as always, the realization ran like alleviating fluid over his old scars.

"I love you, Baby," he uttered, and her head fell to his shoulder under tiny kisses.

"Love you, too," she panted, "so, so much."

Brennan felt weightless, as he rocked her in his arms. She trusted him infinitely. This man – he was still the same Booth she had shared meals with, bickered with, worked with. For so long she hadn't allowed herself to love him; she simply hadn't been able to believe that she, Brennan, could treat him like he deserved it. She had wanted to protect him, but, by doing so, she had hurt him the most. And even though she had always trusted _him_, she had had to learn to trust herself as well.

His love washing over her, his devotion palpable in every kiss, every caress, she knew that she was worth it, that she did indeed make him happy. She could feel his pure bliss, and it was her own.

"Close," he murmured, thrusting deep into her soft body, and she nodded.

"Come with me."

"Yes."

He moved faster, harder, and very soon they were both teetering on the edge, and then they were falling. She gasped into his kiss, clutching him with her arms and her silky inner muscles, and he was drowning in her until nothing but the sound of running water remained.

Nothing but the sweet aftermath of fulfilled love.

-BONES-

The dress she had chosen to wear was mauve, and while the hem waved fluffily around her slender ankles, it hugged her upper body in a tight caress, emphasizing her full breasts and, well, every other curve of her body – inclusive her slightly rounded belly. Her mahogany hair was falling freely onto her creamy shoulders, her face showing just a hunch of make-up.

She looked freaking fantastic, and Booth couldn't tear his eyes away from her – which was turning into a problem since he was driving. He himself wore a tux, and he knew that they looked spectacular together. In fact, he had seen exactly how spectacular when he had hugged her just a few minutes ago in front of her big mirror.

"Tell me again what the exhibition is about, Bones."

"The possibility of extraterrestrial influences on the Mayan culture."

"I cannot believe Hodgins is missing this," he chuckled. "It doesn't really sound so scientific."

"Well, it's controversial."

"Speaking about Hodgins..."

"Angela! You're right, I have to call her."

Opening her tiny purse, Brennan took her cell and hit the button which stood for her best friend. It rang a few times before it went to voicemail.

"Angela, this is Brennan speaking. I want to inform you that Booth and I are expecting a child. I'm pregnant. Please check the time code of this message to be reassured that you knew it before anyone else did. Bye."

She ended the call, and he erupted in laughter.

"She will kill and grill you."

"Metaphorically speaking, I hope."

Five minutes later they entered the museum, and even before he had had a chance to reach for her hand, it already slipped into his bigger one. He could hear her shuddered breath and squeezed her fingers tenderly.

"It's show time, Honey," he whispered, and a tiny smile played around her lips.

Camille Saroyan had just finished her talk with the director of the Egyptian department when a beautiful couple at the entrance caught her attention.

"Oh my God..."

Her jaw dropped to the floor, as she registered the change in Brennan's silhouette.

Seconds later an overexcited Daisy Wick rushed in her direction, one dumbstruck psychologist on her trail.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Daisy squealed, grabbing Cam's arm.

"Exactly my thoughts," Cam stated drily.

"When... how... why?" Sweets stuttered, his cheeks pale, his eyes as big as saucers.

"I have no idea, but evidence suggests about three months ago," Cam answered.

"How could you have missed this?" Daisy screamed, her breathing exercises long forgotten.

"Hey," Wendell made his appearance – Clark Edison following shortly after – pointing in the direction of his boss and her partner. "You've seen that?"

"Absolutely," Cam said but shook her head.

"What do we do now? Dr. Brennan cannot abandon us. I mean, usually when I need advice I think WWBD, but considering what she has very obviously done, I mean..."

"Breathe, Daisy," Sweets croaked, unable to hide his shock.

"She's pregnant. He _has_ to be the father."

"Well, he's holding her hand."

"Now she's laughing."

"Look how he's looking at her."

"She's kissing him."

"Awwwwwww..."

"I so hope that this is his baby."

"I hope she conceived it the old-fashioned way."

"What do we do now?"

"Drink. Now. Fast. Hope that we're over the shock once they're coming to us."

Five coworkers slash friends turned around to the bar, seeking help in golden spirit, while Booth and Brennan shook hands, made small talk, accepted some congratulations. The room was thick with unasked questions, and sometimes it was very hard to hide a smirk faced with a particularly shocked face. People with cameras were lingering suspiciously close to them.

'Yup, definitely betting pools,' Booth thought.

After a while they spotted their friends draining the bar.

"You think they haven't seen us, yet?" Brennan whispered, leaning close to Booth.

"No way. Bones, could this be the very first time we rendered our friends speechless?"

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," she said, gnawing her lip.

He cupped her chin with his fingers, his thumb brushing her bottom lip.

"Hey, Honey, look at me. I don't even care. You and me, that's what's important."

Tilting her head, she pressed her rosy lips to his. Some cameras were clicking unbeknownst to them.

"You are wonderful," she stated seriously.

"So are you," he answered equally touched.

"Shall we say hello to our friends?"

"We shall."

Hand in hand they walked towards the bar, and five heads tilted to swallow some more liquid courage.

"Hi everyone," Booth greeted, and, finally, the others turned around.

"Seeley, Dr. Brennan... congratulations," Cam managed to say, not a blink betraying her feelings.

"That was quite an entrance," Clark blurted out, stepping forward to envelop his boss in an awkward embrace.

Booth glared at the squint but the latter chose to ignore it and wrapped his arms around the bigger man as well. It felt like hugging a rock, Clark realized and hurried to retreat.

"You're having a baby!"

Daisy clapped her hands enthusiastically and took a step in Brennan's direction who outstretched her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"A hug won't be necessary, Miss Wick."

Wendell cleared his throat.

"Congratulations, both on the romance and on the baby, if I interpret the signs correctly."

"You do interpret them correctly, man," Booth answered with an amused grin.

"And thank you," Brennan added, nuzzling up closer to her partner.

They were oozing happiness and intimacy, Sweets realized, and something hit his guts like a punch.

"Congratulations from me as well," he managed to say politely, and Booth arched an eyebrow at him.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Is there more to say?" Sweet deadpanned while his mind was screaming, 'How? When? Why?'

Booth shrugged, wrapping his arm closer around Brennan.

"I guess not. Nice party, huh?"

Five heads nodded half-heartedly, and Booth felt almost pity for them.

"Hey, guys, it's not as if we didn't want to tell you."

"He's right," Brennan nodded, "it just... never came up."

Cam outstretched her arms dramatically.

"It never came up? How could that happen since I ask questions about your sex life so regularly?" she exclaimed, and even Brennan didn't miss the irony in her words.

"In fact, Dr. Saroyan, you've asked me those questions several times over the last years. But I understand your reaction."

Cam shrugged it off.

"Sorry. I'm just... kind of speechless right now. But I'd like to discuss details on Monday."

"Details?" Brennan asked with an almost panicked expression, and Booth couldn't suppress his chuckle. Yup, he definitely loved this woman.

"Details such as maternity leave," Cam added drily, and Brennan exhaled in relief.

"Oh."

"So, you're in a relationship? Really?"

Booth and Brennan exchanged a glance and a smile.

"We are."

"You don't deny that you're in love with each other anymore?"

"Nope."

"And you're having a baby?"

"That's correct."

"I need another drink."

-BONES-

Half an hour later a couple in love was swaying on the dance floor, her head on his shoulder, a flimsy mauve dress waving with every move. At the bar a miserable psychologist was clutching his glass, and even his bubbly girlfriend couldn't lighten his mopey mood.

"Lancelot, I don't understand you," Daisy exclaimed. "This is what you've always predicted, what you've always hoped for. Why aren't you happy now?"

Sweets shrugged and gulped another drink.

"Baby steps. More baby steps. Backward steps. And baby steps again. I've been there, we all have. We've watched this love story for years, and it has been epic and wearing at the same time. It has been our very own soap opera. The eye sex, the trust, all those little touches. We saw them breaking, but we came back. We've survived the Hannah time. We noticed her changes. Then, suddenly, the little touches were back. And now? Pang! Just like that they're a couple, and she's pregnant? We've missed it, Daisy, we've missed the most important part! I feel cheated."

One more drink. Daisy rolled her eyes impatiently.

"What? Did you expect an invitation? Or an email afterwards? Subject: Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan just had sex?"

Sweets pouted, his eyes already glassy.

"No... 'f course not. Just, I don't know... it feels as if we've missed the big finale."

Tugging at his arm, Daisy turned him around on the bar stool, pointing at two people on the dance floor. Booth had just said something, and Brennan threw her head back in laughter. They were a stunning couple, surrounded by elegance and a glow of happiness, and right between their swaying bodies, there was the soft curve of her belly.

"Lance, look at them. They're so cute. You miss even more by staring into your glass."

"Look, Daisy, I _will_ be happy for them, I know it. God knows they deserve it. But right now... right now I have to deal with the loss."

"The loss?"

He shrugged again.

"We've always kind of known that, at some, point something would have to happen. It was wishful thinking, faith, hope, fate... everything. A whole bunch of good things. Now it has happened. What do we hope for now?"

"Aw, that is sweet but stupid. You can always wish for more happiness, for a healthy baby. But I get it, your lab rats have outgrown their cage, and it makes you sad."

He turned around almost furiously.

"Don't put it like this. They are my friends, not my lab rats."

Daisy hurried to back-pedal.

"Okay, be stupid then. Whine into your drink. I'm gonna dance now."

Turning on her heels, Daisy disappeared, and Sweets let his gaze wander back to Booth and Brennan, dancing cheek to cheek, soul to soul.

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

He would be happy for them.

Tomorrow.

To be continued...

_1. No Bones until November? Sigh..._

_2. Because I totally felt like Sweets._

_3. Mistakes are to blame on the good Italian wine._


	10. A Label

X. A Label

His cheek pressed to hers, her scent invading his senses, the world vanishing while they danced. With Brennan, Booth had gotten used to strange moments of world vanishing, but every single time it amazed him how everything but her presence could fade away.

He heard her little sigh of contentment, and his fingers caressed her back lovingly as she tilted her head to place a tiny kiss on his neck. Inhaling deeply, Brennan could smell the spicy note of his after-shave, warmed by his body.

"I like this spot," she said, lifting one finger to trace the skin right above his collar.

He moved his thumb in response, pressing gently into the small of her back.

"I like this one," he answered.

It was the spot he had claimed such a long time ago, the perfect place for his hand. He loved the hollow of her spine against his palm, and one of the first times he had made love to her, Booth had turned her around, kissing, licking and nibbling that very part of her body for a long time. This place of her, it was his; had been his long before Brennan herself had been his as well.

Possessive pronouns... he _really_ liked them.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and the blue of her eyes – pale and bright at the same time – sparkled more than the festively decorated room. Laughter lines enchanted his face, and then his pursed lips lowered to her face, brushing her high cheekbones before landing on her lips. And, again, she gave herself to him through a kiss.

"Ha!"

A voice, slightly out of breath but quite demanding, interrupted their very private moment, and when Brennan opened her eyes, she noticed her best friend standing next to them, her hands braced on her still wide hips.

"Angela! What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Interesting message you left me, Bren."

Angela looked... interesting, her outfit evidence of impatience and hurry. Her brown curls were pinned up in an unruly hairdo, her full breasts almost spilling over the corsage of a dress which had certainly fit better in the past.

"Where's the baby?"

"In the car with Hodgins. I have," she cast a quick glance at her watch, "about twenty minutes before he wants to be fed again. I would have brought him if we had found a baby tux."

Booth chuckled.

"Sorry for the bombshell, Angela."

"Bombshell? Bombshell? No, Sweetie, a bombshell was the two of you sleeping together. Of you being, finally, smart enough to be in a relationship. This," she pointed at Brennan's belly, "I don't even have a word to describe what _this_ is."

"Are you mad at me, Ange?" Brennan gnawed her lip, not letting go of Booth's arm, and she looked so insecure that Angela's heart softened.

Stepping forward, she enveloped both her best friend and Booth in a fierce hug.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm... in shock, but so incredibly happy."

Brennan relaxed, returning the embrace, and Booth didn't have a choice but doing the same, trapped in the group hug. He didn't really mind, though.

"Now you can be a metaphorical aunt as well," Brennan whispered, and somewhere in the tangle of limbs and hearts a head nodded.

"Oh, yes. And our kids can grow up together. How awesome is that?"

"You can tell me everything I have to know."

"I won't be the fattest person in the lab anymore."

"We can have a playgroup."

"I'm not really comfortable in this hug anymore," came Booth's voice, and the two women giggled, loosening their hold on him and each other.

Finally Angela's eyes fell to Brennan's slightly rounded belly, and she sighed.

"I just had to see it with my own eyes."

"Technically you have been the first of our friends to know, Ange," Brennan hurried to clarify. "We'd only told Parker so far, and my dad kind of knew anyway."

"I really appreciate it, Sweetie."

Turning her head, Angela noticed Sweets on the bar stool. He had fallen asleep next to a half-empty bottle, his mouth open.

"Wow, Sweets is drooling onto his tux," Angela stated, and Booth rubbed his chin.

"The others didn't take it that well, either, but better than Sweets."

"You so have to take a photo of him. Good blackmailing material."

Brennan regarded the miserable man calmly.

"Even though I've come to like him very much, I find that I don't feel pity for him. He has messed with our lives a lot, and I don't want that anymore. I like him as our friend and coworker, but I don't like him as our psychologist."

Booth stroke Brennan's cheek in a featherlight caress.

"You have never liked him as our psychologist, my dear."

"I had my reasons," she insisted.

"Whatever, my maternal instinct kicks in. The poor kid could need a hug and a talk. I'll send Hodgins to fetch him, and we'll drive him home," Angela intervened.

"You have to leave, then?"

Angela nodded.

"My breasts are about to burst."

"Angela," Booth complained, his ears turning to a bright shade of pink, but the artist dismissed him with a rough gesture.

"Get used to it, Booth."

Brennan chuckled, placing a calming hand on his arms.

"He can be very sensitive, but I can reassure you, Angela, he is not prudish."

"Bones," Booth winced, and she turned around to give him an amused smile.

"Sorry, Honey."

"Aw, you're so sweet, and no matter how much I'd like to watch you, milk stains don't go with this dress. I'll call you tomorrow, Sweetie."

"Bye, Ange."

The woman hurried away, and Brennan turned her attention to Booth anew, her arms looping around his neck.

"That went well," she said contently, and he nodded in affirmation.

"She's a splendid woman."

Tilting her head, Brennan watched him carefully.

"How splendid exactly?"

"Not as splendid as you are."

"She is very attractive. Had I ever considered same-sex activities, Angela would have been my first choice."

Booth squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"Too much information."

With a low chuckle, Brennan nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck.

"Just to be sure, Baby, to me that would count as cheating as well," he announced seriously, and her hold on him tightened.

"I know. You know that I have changed my opinion about monogamy a long time ago, don't you?"

"Oh God, I really hope so because someone else touching you, kissing you? I couldn't stand it, Bones. It would drive me nuts."

"Anthropologically speaking, this attitude is quite stupid, but I know exactly what you mean because I couldn't stand it either. You're mine. Exclusively," she answered, and he sighed in relief.

"I'm willing to compromise on everything else, but not on this one."

"You don't have to, and it's nowhere near a compromise for me. This is ours, just ours," she stated matter-of-factly, and his heart vibrated with the sweetness of love.

"Hey!"

Another voice interrupted their closeness, and when they looked up, they found Hodgins' bright blue eyes flickering from their faces to her belly and back.

"Dude, it is really true. I'm impressed," he said, patting Booth's shoulder.

Booth's mouth corner curved up, and his chest swelled with male pride.

"Thanks, man."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

"I cannot believe it," she murmured, "here we are, so very civilized, but still, _still_ impregnating a woman raises the position of a male in his social context."

The men exchanged a glance, and after a moment of silent embarrassment, they shrugged simultaneously.

"Yeah," Booth smirked.

"Totally," Hodgins stated, but hurried to add, "and congratulations to you as well, Dr. B. I'm thrilled! This is so cool. I wish I could stay, but my duty is to carry Sweets to the car. Where is he?"

Booth pointed at the bar.

"Oh boy," Hodgins sighed.

"You need help?" Booth offered, but the other man shook his head.

"Nah. Enjoy your intimate togetherness as long as you still can. See you on Monday."

Booth and Brennan observed how Hodgins carried the knocked-out psychologist like a sack of potatoes out of the room.

"I like our friends," Booth said after a while. "They are so... unique."

"How about we give this dance one more try and at the next interruption we accept defeat and leave the party?" she suggested, and he pulled her into his arms again.

"Sounds like a plan. How are you? Tired?"

"Not at all. I'm fine. Quite happy, in fact."

"The baby?"

"Like a fish in the pond."

He laughed.

"That was both literal and metaphorical. I'm impressed, Babe."

She smiled against his shoulder.

"I'm really becoming quite amusing."

"You have always been amusing. I'm quite in love with you."

"I'm quite in love with you as well."

"So it is true. Nice shot, Chérie."

Another voice cut into their bubble of happiness, and both of them straightened their backs involuntarily.

"Caroline," Booth exclaimed, a puzzled look on his face.

"I didn't know you were interested in the Mayan culture," Brennan uttered.

"I am not, but I am very interested in something not so ancient. Just heard it through the grapevine. I guess you finally found the missing link of humanity, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan's cheeks flushed under the strict glare of the red-haired prosecutor, and she folded her hands over her belly in a subconscious gesture.

"I don't know what that means."

"And I don't believe in immaculate conception," Caroline snorted, but a spark in her eyes betrayed her harsh behavior.

"Immaculate conception is a myth, I agree. However, there are certain methods of reproduction which come close to it."

Booth didn't even get a chance to share his opinion because Caroline turned to him, pointing at Brennan.

"What is she talking about?"

"Parthenogenesis. What are _you_ talking about?" Brennan asked, a confused frown on her forehead.

"Your baby."

"You're mistaken, this baby was conceived-"

Booth's hand snapped up, covering Brennan's mouth while his eyes had filled with a panicked expression. Caroline erupted in laughter, and her face softened.

"I'm happy, Chérie. The two of you together are every bit as weird as perfect. Congratulations on the baby. I mean it, really."

"Thanks, Caroline," Boot accepted with warmth in his voice, and then the muffled sound of Brennan speaking reminded him of his hand still silencing her.

"Sorry, Bones," he murmured, his eyes pleading her candidly.

"That wasn't very sensitive, Booth, but neither was mocking your religious beliefs. I'm sorry as well."

"Aw," Caroline stated in dry irony. "Kiss already."

Booth closed the distance to Brennan's mouth, but she lifted her hand to stop him.

"You want one for free?"

"Oh, come on," Caroline complained, "it certainly doesn't look like a sacrifice to me."

"Giving my father the trailer for free wouldn't have been a sacrifice, either."

"Fine, what do you want to have?"

"We kiss, you dance with Dr. Albom over there."

Brennan pointed at a stocky man in his fifties nursing a drink in the corner, and Caroline's eyes followed Brennan's finger. The prosecutor sighed.

"Agreed. Five steamboats and you get your dance. May I ask why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm feeling... what was the term? Ah, _puckish_, I believe."

Caroline accepted defeat, and Brennan grabbed Booth's collar like back then when they had counted steamboats underneath a mistletoe. Still, the touch of lips ignited a spark, but contrary to then, there was intimate familiarity in the way his palm cupped her neck, in the softness of lips opening under each other. Brennan melted into his embrace, and Caroline realized with a pang of envy and touch that there was nothing between them. No line, no reason, no reasonability. They were one, as close as two people could ever come.

The prosecutor sighed, as the two broke their kiss, turning on her heels to stand true to her part of the bargain. Booth pecked Brennan's lips one more time.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why are you making her dance with Dr. Albom? Who is he?"

Brennan chuckled.

"He's famous for his affinity to garlic. Plus, he lisps and spits while speaking."

Booth erupted in laughter, regarding his woman with adoration.

"Temperance Brennan, you're very mean."

She shrugged.

"Caroline can take it. By the way, I believe she counts as 'interruption'. Let's go home, Booth."

He nodded, his palm finding the small of her back to guide her to the exit. As always.

-BONES-

The storm settled, the hangovers did as well, and by the end of the following week everybody had gotten used to the idea. Booth and Brennan felt relief that there was no need to hide anymore – neither their love nor the change in her body. The talk with Cam went fairly well; they agreed on hiring Clark Edison full time, and with the help of the interns he should be able to handle things while Brennan would be on maternity leave.

She had decided to take three full months off and to work project-related afterwards. Financially-wise it wouldn't be necessary, but Brennan loved her work. She had been an anthropologist and an author long before being a mother had even been in the picture, and now she was determined to be all of it.

Inside of her the miracle was going on. Their baby had the size of an avocado now, forming taste buds, reacting to light. Angela had been delighted to share her old maternity clothes with her friend and even more delighted to shop something that was more Brennan's style. Two more dresses and some pants moved into her closet alongside with a collection of new underwear.

There was only one thing clouding her mood, and that was the FBI's attitude towards pregnant women in the field. They didn't terminate their partnership, and, apparently, she was still allowed to examine bodies and crime scenes – at least if there was no contamination risk which could harm her pregnancy – but she wasn't allowed to do cop work anymore. No interrogations, no murderer chases, no arrests. Temperance Brennan was not pleased at all, but she hadn't missed the flicker of relief in Booth's eyes when she had been told. She felt patronized, and that wasn't something she took very well.

The result was their first real argument, maybe even a fight considering the fact that she had slammed the door shut. As much as she loved him and his care, his overprotective streak could annoy her beyond belief.

Pacing her bedroom, she tried to clear her head, patting her belly in search of advice, as ridiculous as it was. Then she heard the apartment door closing, and her eyes went wide, as her shoulders slumped. He had left. A little voice inside of her reminded her mercilessly that, in fact, she had left first, but it couldn't banish the feeling of abandonment.

Opening her bedroom door, Brennan peeked into the living room. It was empty. Her chin dimpled, as her eyes pricked with unshed tears.

"He's gone," she said to no one in particular because it would be stupid to talk to a fetus before it could even hear.

"He has left us," she added, giving up every pretext of not talking to the little avocado-shrimp growing inside of her.

"Maybe I should go after him? After all, he only wants to protect us..."

Her hand cupped her belly in a gesture full of vulnerability, but then her shoulders squared.

"Don't worry, we will fix this."

Grabbing her keys, she headed towards the exit, but when she had just put on her shoes, her door opened again.

"Booth," she cried out, throwing herself into his arms.

He caught her with guilt written all over his handsome face.

"I thought you had left... us..."

"I'm sorry, Baby. And baby," he added, giving her belly a caress.

"I'm sorry as well. I reacted overly emotional. I understand that protecting his pregnant mate is a strong urge for every man. The pregnant mate would be me," she clarified, tilting her head with an insecure smile.

"Oh, Bones," he choked on the word that was her name, losing a hard kiss in her hair. "I just want you to be safe. Both of you."

"I know, but not working with you anymore... Booth... will you get a new partner?" she whispered, and finally he understood her biggest fear.

"Forget it. Before you came along, I've been kind of a lonely wolf. You will always be my only partner. And, besides, it's not as if we won't work together anymore. There are just some parts I will do alone from now on."

"The dangerous parts," she uttered, and he wrapped her even closer into his arms.

"I promise you to be careful. I know that you have to live with worries as well. It's the biggest burden of a cop's wife."

"I'm not your wife, Booth."

"I know, but it's just a label. To me, you're everything it implies."

He could feel her shuddered breath.

"You asked Hannah to marry you," she finally whispered, and he tensed.

"Yes," he said because there was no point in denying the truth.

"Why?" she dared to ask, and he laughed out helplessly.

"I guess I wanted to have... something. I was chasing a dream."

"How can I be sure that you aren't doing the same thing with me?"

His face clouded.

"Because loving you... loving you, Temperance, it cannot be rationalized. It has burned me, swallowed me completely. Overwhelmed me with its rush. Falling in love with you has never been the plan, and the things you offer me, the way you are? I have never dreamed any of it, but at the same time it's bigger and better than any dream I've ever had. It is real. _You_ are."

He spoke with intensity which hit her deeply, his brown, honest eyes piercing right into her soul.

"I cannot promise you that I will ever change. That I ever want to get married."

Her words came on fragile wings, and he rocked her in his arms.

"And I won't ask for it. Honey, be sure that I would marry you right here, right now, just because I love you like crazy. But... I don't _have to_ be married to you to be happy. The things you give me have already surpassed every dream I've ever had. You're so much bigger, so more wow."

He could feel her smile.

"But..."

"Yes?"

"I know that you want to get married at some point," he added.

"How? Why?"

"You wrote about it. You imagined it. You made me dream about it. So... whenever you're ready, I'm here."

Burrowing her face in his shoulder, she locked his words away in her heart. The instant he had spoken them, Brennan had recognized them as the truth. She had imagined Booth and Bren because part of her had wanted to believe in it, had wanted to feel it. Being married... she had never desired it, but she wanted to have everything with _him_. Even the things she had never wanted to have in the first place.

"You might be right," she confessed after a while, and he knew how much it cost her.

His hand roamed over her back in a soothing caress.

"It doesn't really matter. You're mine, and I'm complete. I don't need a ring to know that. You don't have to marry me to be my wife. I have everything I need, everything and so much more," he whispered hoarsely.

"Thank you for your faith."

"Always, Bones, always."

"Sorry for slamming the door in your face."

"Sorry for leaving."

"You came back."

"You opened the door."

"I will always be your partner?"

"My only one."

She sighed, and it turned into a yawn, as emotional exhaustion kicked in. Despite her protest, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

"What are you doing?"

"Carrying you as long as I can still lift you."

"Very charming, thank you so much."

"Did I sense irony?"

"Did you?"

"I love you Bones. You're one crazy, stubborn woman, but you are _my_ crazy, stubborn woman."

"Part of it sounded quite nice, but I like the other part even better."

"Why?"

She shrugged in his arms.

"It's so... true."

Laughing, he placed her on the middle on the mattress, and words were replaced by lips and hands, as they reassured each other that no harm had been done, that _they_ had held.

Later, much later when her naked body was curled up against his bigger one, and the soft melody of his breathings lulled her slowly into sleep, Brennan was filled with deep peace.

Partner, wife, girlfriend – the label didn't really matter as long as they were like this.

Like... everything.

To be continued...


	11. A Number

XI. A Number

The following week came with her next doctor's appointment, and hearing the galloping sound of their baby's heartbeat had lost nothing of its magic. The fetus looked more like a real child by now, and the two partners watched in awe how their little one was sucking his thumb. Brennan was eighteen weeks pregnant, and the baby had the size of a bell pepper by now. They weren't able to find out the baby's sex, but both of them felt a strong surge of pride as they left the doctor's office with a brand-new ultrasound photo.

Brennan herself had gone from, "Does she have weight issues?" to, "Definitely pregnant." Even though she was a tall woman, she had always been gracious, and the five extra pounds she had already gained betrayed her pregnancy easily. Booth loved it; he loved every curve, every dimple of her. He loved that he had the right to touch and fondle the swell of her belly while she wouldn't allow anyone else – "My body is private property, Booth." – and he loved the way she craved his closeness.

Since both of them had taken the day off, they decided to indulge themselves with a second breakfast, and he watched with amusement how she devoured a huge pile of pancakes in no time.

"Hungry?" he smirked, and she gave him a strict glare while already ogling at his pie.

"Angela informed me that a man is not allowed to make fun of his pregnant woman. After all, this is your baby making me fat."

His eyes sobered up immediately, showering her with nothing but love.

"You aren't fat, you're beautiful. Always."

Tilting her head, she gave him a cute smile.

"Nice save. I," she took a deep breath, "I thought about our situation and came to the conclusion that it would be logical for us to live together."

He remained silent for a long while, and Brennan observed him with growing anxiety. She thought she found a flicker of joy on his face, but there was something else as well, and it was clouding his eyes. Finally, she couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"You don't wanna live with me?" she asked on a whisper that almost broke his heart, and he met her gaze with helplessness and honesty.

"No, I want to live with you. I want to live with my family. It's just," he shrugged awkwardly, "I kind of hate that it is 'the logical thing to do'."

Her face softened at his vulnerability, and she caressed his cheek lovingly.

"Booth, count the number of nights we have spent apart in the last months."

Silence settled over them while he did the maths.

"I get your point," he grumbled after a while. "But... if it weren't for the baby..."

"If it weren't for the baby, I would still use every chance possible to be in your arms. I hate sleeping without you, and my days are so much better since I wake up next to you. This is not only about the baby, this is about the fact that I love you. That I want to spend my... time with you."

He swallowed hard, leaning into her palm. She hadn't said "life", but Booth knew enough about her to understand that they were talking about the same thing, that they were on the same page. It seemed pointless to fight about a word when the result would be just the same: she and him together, every day and every night.

"You really wanna live with me? You're neat, I'm messy. You love green food, I prefer it greasy."

She laughed.

"Don't you think I've figured that out by now? Booth, we _are_ practically living together. I know who you are, and I want you in my life. Always. Even when it's messy and complicated."

"I love that you arrange peppers by color," he confessed.

"I love finding your socks in my laundry basket. And around it. So... are we doing it?"

A candid smile lit up his whole face.

"Yes, we are."

"Let's buy something together."

"Okay."

She jumped up and grabbed her purse.

"You mean now?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Just something that marks the beginning of us living together. A symbol."

"_You_ want to have a symbol?" he asked incredulously.

Shifting her head, she avoided his gaze.

"Is it that stupid?"

He got up and took her in his arms, already regretting his words.

"It is... unlike you, but not stupid at all. I want to buy something with you."

She smiled at him with renewed enthusiasm, and his heart flew to her. He chastised himself for fueling her doubts about going with her guts. He didn't need a symbol to know that it would work, that they would work, but it was a nice idea anyways. Buying their first thing together. She had gotten softer, more irrational, and even though he liked this new side of her, sometimes he fell back into the old routine, the old patterns of teasing her, forgetting for a moment that she was still walking on unfamiliar ground, that she wasn't strong enough to be teased about emotional impulses, yet.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair. "Thanks for being you."

Looking up to him with bright eyes, Brennan offered her lips to him, and he lowered his head, meeting her mouth for a kiss that tasted like pancakes and pie and her.

They drove to a nearby mall, roaming the shops hand in hand, searching for their perfect first thing. He suggested a TV, but she – _she!_ – shook her head, insisting that it would be too logical to buy something he really wanted to have and that romantic symbols shouldn't be logical. She fell in love with a tambourine, but Booth said even romantic symbols shouldn't be completely superfluous.

In the end they agreed on a pot. It was something they could actually use, but since it was flower-printed and quite tiny, it seemed irrational enough. The pot wasn't really that expensive, and the cashier regarded the two of them curiously as they divided the ridiculous sum equally. Booth and Brennan didn't care, though, they were way too happy, as they left the shop with their pot.

They were talking, laughing, exchanging clumsy kisses while walking, but suddenly something caught her eyes, and Brennan stopped in front of a shop window.

"Oh..."

They were standing in front of a store for baby paraphernalia, and Booth's eyes followed her stare. It was a little blanket, a quilt which had mesmerized her. The patches were green and yellow and pink and blue, some of them plain, some of them decorated with tiny rabbits or flowers. It was perfect, somehow.

Booth squeezed her fingers briefly.

"You wanna buy it?" he whispered softly, but she shook her head slowly.

"No."

Her answer surprised him, since she seemed to like it very much.

"It's too early," she added, her voice trembling just a little bit, and he understood.

"Our baby is fine, Bones, everything is going to be just fine."

"I know, but I'm only eighteen weeks pregnant. Chances are-"

"Don't say it," he pleaded. "I know that there's a risk, but there are always risks in life."

"I'm not afraid, Booth, I'm having faith... like you taught me. It's just... _if _something happened... I wouldn't want a physical thing as beautiful as this blanket to remind me of what could have been. Does this make any sense?"

Her eyes were dark despite their paleness, and his hand moved to her belly on a will of its own, finding hers there.

"You don't want to jinx it, I get it."

Turning around, Brennan said goodbye to the blanket with a last lingering look full of something.

"Let's wait two more months before we buy anything, okay?"

Booth nodded in agreement, knowing that babies could survive out of the womb by that time. He pulled her closer into his side, and her head fell to his shoulder. Their former easy happiness was replaced by a wistful mood, and when he couldn't bear it anymore, Booth stopped, hugging her fiercely and properly, murmuring reassuring sweetness into her ear until her soft laughter finally caressed his skin.

"Do you... do you want to wait two more months before we move in together as well?" he dared to ask long after her eyes had brightened again.

They were riding in the car, and she turned to him in utter surprise.

"No, of course not. Booth, I'm so sorry that I ever gave you any reason to doubt my feelings for you. I want to live with you. Really."

He exhaled a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.

"I guess we have to do it, then. After all, we have the pot."

"We have the pot," she smiled.

-BONES-

They had the pot, but Booth and Brennan had to find out very soon that it was a long way from a pot to cohabitation. They dismissed his place easily; not because he had lived there with Hannah – "I don't believe in ghosts, Booth, and most definitely not in metaphorical ones." – but because it was simply not spacious enough for their new family.

Her place was much bigger, but even despite its generous size there weren't that many rooms with doors in her apartment, and they needed at least two more, one for Parker and one for the new baby. She suggested to erect a few walls, but Booth doubted that her landlord would like it that much. After all, the loft was beautiful and unique as it was. At the mention of her landlord, Brennan got _that_ frown on her face, informing Booth that she owned the apartment and that she had always assumed he would know it.

He felt dizzy for a brief moment, and soon a discussion about apartments had turned into a discussion about money. Two days later Booth found himself sitting in front of her accountant, and dizziness was replaced by nausea, as he took in the numbers and everything she had done.

Ever so practical, Brennan had already changed her will in favor of him as the father of her child. Even though he had to swallow that she had done it without telling him, it wasn't the biggest surprise. There was a fund for Parker as well, and it dated three years back. More money went to her nieces and – one more reason to swallow – Hank's retirement home.

She supported an animal rescue shelter and the hospital which had successfully removed his tumor a few years ago as well. She still paid for baby Andy's – who hadn't been a baby in quite a while – medical bills.

Booth was pale, so very pale and stiff by the time they left the accountant's office, his jaw set, eyes dark. He drove to her place silently, and Brennan bit her lips not to apologize for something that still felt right to her. Sharing his silence, she counted her phalanges, the bypassing trees – everything to distract herself from the stalemate of the current situation.

When the car stopped in front of her building, she could hear his deep breath.

"I think I need some space, Bones."

Her head flung around, eyes sparkling with fear and anger.

"Don't you dare, Seeley Booth."

His back went very straight, as he didn't look at her.

"I haven't done anything wrong, this is your stupid problem. After all, I have just followed your advice."

"My advice? I've never told you to waste your money on me or my family."

Now she was really angry, and he could feel her fury like an ice-cold chill filling the narrow space of the car.

"You told me to use my money in a way that would make sense. You told me that we were one kind of family. Nothing made more sense than the people I love benefiting from my wealth."

"You never told me!"

"I didn't want to have _this_ conversation. I just wanted to take care of you! Parker can go to every college he wants to, Hank got a better room."

"This is nothing I could ever give back!"

"And why should you? Why should you? I have enough money, you don't have to pay it back. All those years, Booth... you have given me a million things and more _I_ could never give back."

"So you're _paying me_ for caring about you?"

Their gazes locked, frozen fire cracking between them, and for a second he was very sure that she was about to slap him. Then her shoulders slumped, and the anger left her body on a sigh.

"You know what? You're right, you do need space. Grow a set, Booth," she stated calmly before opening the door, and gone she was.

Booth watched her retreating form, her elegant posture, the heavy sway of her hips. Reaching for his phone and hitting speed dial happened in the blink of a moment. She stopped but accepted the call without turning around.

"Baby..."

She sighed.

"I love you, Bones, and I forget to say: Thank you. For taking care of me, Parker and Hank among so many others."

"If I wasted my money on you, you wasted your love on me, Booth," came her tired voice.

"You have such a big heart..."

Now she did turn around, and he could see her calm face.

"There is nothing wrong about this, Booth, and don't you dare telling me otherwise. I don't care about money. But I care about you."

"It's just hard to accept that you make so much more money than I do. It has already been hard when you've been my friend, but now..."

His voice trailed off.

"We're risking our life, everyday. We're doing an important job. However, what has made me truly rich are those books. Fiction, plain fiction. Fiction I couldn't have written without our partnership, by the way. That's not fair."

"I know, it's just... I should be supposed to take care of you, Honey," he whispered into the phone.

"You are, _you are_," came her desperate reply. "I can buy an apartment, but I cannot buy a home. You give me a home, _you_. A family."

"I don't want to be a kept man."

Even through the distance he could see her frown.

"I don't know what that means."

She didn't know what that meant... The answer was already on his lips, when his own stupidity hit him like a blow. She didn't care about money, but she cared about him, his son and his grandfather. The woman he loved, who was carrying his child, was standing on the other side of the road, asking him to be her home because she loved him as well, and only his own bruised pride held him back. He swallowed hard.

"I'm coming," he said, ending the call.

He didn't run towards her, didn't hurry. Taking his time to cross the street, Booth watched her. He had hurt her, had dismissed her very own way of caring, the only one she had known, but still, _still_ she was standing there, waiting for him.

Tilting her head, she regarded him carefully, and he took her hand, grazing her delicate knuckles with his thumb.

"Sorry for being such a jerk."

Pale blue fell into dark brown, and she stayed silent for a few seconds. Finally, she nodded, the silk of her hair waving around her face.

"Apology accepted. Booth, this is exhausting."

"Huh?"

"We're strong, right?"

He nodded.

"We're solid," he confirmed.

"But sometimes, sometimes it feels like a roller coaster. Marriage, work, money – there are so many potential pitfalls, and even though I believe in _us_, every time you want to leave, it scares me."

"I would _never_ not come back to you."

"I know, but there is this fraction of a second every time you do it when I feel like losing you. Can't we just," she shrugged, "spend one evening discussing every difficult topic possible? Get it out of our system and move on?"

He chuckled sadly.

"It doesn't work that way."

"Well, it should."

"Let's," he cleared his throat, as he left his mislead pride behind, "let's deal with the money thing once and for all."

"You won't run again?"

"I won't."

Half an hour later they were sitting on her table, a cup of tea in front of her, a Scotch tumbler in front of him. He hadn't drunk in her presence ever since she had gotten pregnant – it just didn't seem fair – but tonight he needed something stronger than tea. Booth's eyes zoomed in on the china in Brennan's hand, as she took a first cautious sip, and he tried to see a pretty cup with flowers instead of an expensive antiquity. It almost worked.

"Earning my first money... it meant a lot to me. It made me independent. I didn't need anyone anymore," she begun, her voice dark as she traveled down memory lane. "I felt strong and safe. The checks got fatter, the number on my bank account higher. But after a while... it didn't mean anything anymore, it was just... a number. Until I met you. Expressing my feelings has never been easy for me, but taking care of the people I love financially-wise was something I could do. It felt right."

"My parents," he started, his voice trembling slightly, "they fought about money a lot. My dad spent most of it in bars. It never ended well for Mom. I always vowed to myself that I would look after my wife. That I would keep her safe in every way possible."

"And you do, Booth. It isn't money which makes me strong and safe anymore, it is you. I need you."

"I know that you are not my mother, and that I am," one quick breath, "not my father. I... I just wish we were equal..."

She looked at him silently for a while before nodding in acceptance.

"I have an idea... I will spend – let's say – ten percent of my income and my savings on our home, and you will spend ten percent of yours."

"But you will pay so much more, then," he protested.

"Absolute, yes. In relation, no."

He took his time and a gulp of strong Scotch to ponder her suggestion.

"I see," he finally said.

"I never believed in absolutes, anyway," she smiled, and his heart melted for her anew.

"I know. Troubled me a lot until I understood your system of value."

Dropping onto his knees in front of her chair, Booth burrowed his head in her lap. A soft sigh left his lips, as he felt her long fingers combing his hair.

"This is something one cannot buy. Something only you can give me," she whispered, and her candor went a long way down to silence his pride.

His fingers found her waist, tickling the smooth skin underneath her wide blouse.

"Only you can give it to me as well."

"Tell me again what our problem is?"

He looked at her calmly, taking in the trust, the openness on her face, and every resistance crumbled faced with her acceptance.

"I don't know anymore."

Lifting both hands, he undid button by tiny button of her blouse until it parted, revealing milky white skin. His finger traced the contours of her clavicle, brushing her full breasts before following the dark line that started right below her navel and disappeared somewhere in her pants. It always amazed him how firm her belly was, and he lowered his head in awe, raining kisses all over the swelling of his child.

"Hi baby," he whispered, enjoying the fact that the bundle of life growing inside of her was finally able to hear his voice.

One kiss later he lowered the elastic waistline of her maternity pants over her hips until he could guess the dark triangle of curls. Looking up again, he smirked, very content with the result. She was watching him intensely, her lips slightly parted, the heavy blue of her gaze almost palpable on his face. Before he could lift his hands to the front clasp of her bra, she surprised him by sinking onto her knees in front of him.

His mouth opened, but her lips swallowed his protest. His Scotch-flavored kiss tasted like alcohol, hay and heavy rain, but it was warm, so warm. It felt like coming home after a long trip, like diving into a waterfall on a hot day, like cotton candy in a warm night of summer. His tongue – raspy and velvety at the same time – took possession of her mouth while his fingers fumbled with her bra until the cups parted and her exposed chest was pressed to his clothed one.

Her oversensitive buds stiffened immediately, and she moaned into his mouth, rubbing herself shamelessly against him. Wetness was pooling between her legs, and without further delay her hands found the growing bulge in his pants, cupping him through the rough material of his jeans. It was his turn to moan, and his blood rushed southwards at her touch.

"You wanna take this to the bedroom?" he asked between whimpers of delight, but she shook her head.

"It would ruin the spontaneity of the moment," she stated seriously, and despite his building need he had to chuckle.

He pulled her close for another deep kiss, his hands sliding down her back under her clothes, kneading her bare buttocks. She pressed herself into his touch while her own hands abandoned his arousal to get rid of his shirt as quickly as possible. A second later tiny buttons were dancing on the floor, and her words were as much a challenge as her saucy grin.

"I'll buy you a new one."

Laughing, he captured her lips anew, devouring her in a kiss that was as hungry as a flower after the burning caress of the sun. Lifting her with one strong arm, Booth managed to wriggle her out of her pants, and her throaty laughter mingled with his own as she opened the fly of his jeans, freeing his painfully throbbing erection.

He groaned at the first touch of her talented hands, surrendering himself to her for a few voluptuous strokes before his own fingers pushed her panties aside, dipping into her moist heat.

Her eyes were bright as she caressed him, as he caressed her so intimately, and, throwing her head back on a growl, she exposed her pale throat to his sucking mouth, to his licking tongue. He trailed wet open-mouthed kisses all over her skin, setting her ablaze.

Pumping him with one hand, Brennan grazed his smooth chest with the other one, eliciting sexy whimpers from him. His muscles flinched under her touch, his body arching into hers, and then she used her fingernails to brush his heavy balls, and he almost lost it. With a primeval groan he tugged at her panties, tearing the flimsy material apart.

She gasped, but he caught it with his tongue.

"I'll buy you a new pair," he murmured against her lips, and the sweet revenge in his words caused her inner walls to flutter briefly.

Equal... oh yes, they were it.

They moved in synchrony, as he lifted himself to lower jeans and boxers over his hips, as she positioned herself on his lap just one racing heartbeat later.

"I want you," she whispered, and behind her simple words lay a whole universe of meanings.

"You have no idea," he rasped, as he pulled her down on him, possessively and tenderly at the same time, and the guttural noise she made was maybe the sexiest thing he had ever heard.

Both of them stilled for one moment, as their connection overwhelmed them, and he enfolded her in his strong arms, as he held her in his lap, her longs legs wrapped around his back, their chests flush to each other, their foreheads touching. He could feel her breath on his face, her whole life vibrating around him.

Then they were moving.

She was in his arms, soft and warm, the utmost devotion in her beautiful eyes taking his breath away. And moving inside of her, with her – it was as wonderful as it had been right from the beginning, and both of them could acknowledge, could accept the ridiculous and sweet perfection of it.

"This," she uttered, her voice so breathless and incredibly sexy, " this is what no one else could ever give me. _Belonging_."

Her breath got stuck on a whimper, as he pushed himself deeper and even deeper into the world that was her. Booth wanted to tell her so many things; how she was the sun of his days and every single star shining through his darkness, but he couldn't find a word as strong as his feelings, so he put every declaration of love into his kiss.

And she could feel it – the connection, the desperate need, the adoration. It was a rush so pure and mighty that she had to gasp, and her orgasm hit her with the magnitude of what they were, what they had become.

The moment her silken walls clenched around him in a rhythm as old as time, he fell with her, followed her into the sweetest of all abysses because in this whole wide world... there wasn't a single place where Seeley Booth wouldn't follow Temperance Brennan, where he wouldn't find her...

The floor was hard and cold underneath their overheated bodies, probably not the right resting place for a pregnant woman and a man with a bad back, but in this very moment captured in time none of them could care. He held her in his arms long after his member had softened inside of her, and he could feel the mingled dampness of their desire dripping out of her.

It was messy, but oh so sweet.

"I like this place," he stated weakly, and her low chuckle was his answer.

Eventually, she stirred in his arms, and he found tousled hair, flushed cheeks, drowsy eyes.

"I am rich, so very rich. But not because of my money," she finally said, and her seriousness stood in contrast to the happy glow on her face.

"You are my million bucks, Honey, and so much more," he answered, smoothing her unruly strands with his big palms.

Pride... sometimes you have to swallow it to be a better man. Sometimes taking care of your woman means letting her take care of yourself.

Money... it couldn't meow like a sated kitten, it couldn't wrap warm arms around you, it couldn't snuggle up to you in this moment between reality and dream.

Sometimes numbers are just numbers, and the rest, the rest is uncountable. Priceless.

To be continued...

_Yup, a streetcar called mushiness took me on a ride ;-)_

_And: 50.000 words - where is my cake?  
><em>


	12. Ordinariness

XII. Ordinariness

It was one rainy early-autumn Saturday, and Seeley Booth was packing his life into boxes. Giving up his apartment was the last step on the ladder that was moving in with Brennan, and he simply had to do it alone. It didn't mean that he wanted to shut her out or that he felt suffocated in their close relationship, no, far from it. But commitment and love... they don't mean that you stop being yourself, an individual human being, and sorting old letters, pictures – all those bits and bobs that shape a life – it was something he had to do alone. She had understood him without words.

Sitting on the wooden floor, pushing Parker's old books and his own comic collection from A to B, sweat was pooling on his neck, running down his strong back, dampening the gray shirt. He found the tiny baby footprint of his boy, he found his father's watch – the only thing he had kept, a bittersweet reminder of a sad childhood. Rebecca's letters from the beginning of their relationship were there, and his old dog tags were there as well.

And of course, _she_ was there. Everywhere he looked, there was proof of Brennan in his life. Old articles about their partnership, a folder with her book reviews, pictures taken at Christmas parties and Halloween. Booth had to chuckle, as he found his "Anthropology for Dummies" book, and his mind traveled back to the very beginning of their partnership when this infuriating and brilliant woman had annoyed him so much.

There was a little figurine as well, and Booth's face twisted in a sad kind of smile, as he caressed it with one careful fingertip.

Hefty Smurf.

Brennan had given it to him not long after he had provided her with Brainy Smurf. He could still remember it vividly. They had just closed a case, but their drinks hadn't been celebratory ones. Only five hours... five hours earlier, and they would have been in time to save the latest victim, a seven year old boy. They hadn't been, and Booth's heart had been heavy and dark. Her big eyes full of compassion, her bottom lip quivering, his partner had balanced the little smurf on her palm, telling him that he would always be a hero, one who took care of people, who tried to save them. The strongest and bravest one among the smurfs.

Booth wrapped the figurine into some paper before putting it into the box. Hefty and Brainy would life together from now on. And maybe... maybe their kid would play with them one day.

Their baby... In the twenty-fourth week of the pregnancy, she was as big as a corncob, weighing more than one pound. Their little girl. Two weeks ago the doctor had confirmed it, and whenever he thought about their _daughter_, his heart exploded with joy. He wasn't even ashamed to admit that he had cried after learning the news, alternating between kissing Brennan's face and her belly. She could already feel the movements, and even though he would never tell her, Booth was a little bit jealous of the intimate connection between his woman and their child.

Abandoning packing for a moment, he went to his already cleaned fridge and opened a cold bottle of beer. This place... he had lived here for eight years. He had loved here, laughed and cried. Giving it up filled his heart with a trace of melancholy, but Booth supposed that the feeling was okay and natural.

He thought about little Parker running over the hardwood floor, he thought about the countless times he had almost kissed his partner in this apartment and about the actual kisses that had followed. He thought about a night when they had burned a piece of paper and about imperviousness.

Tessa, Rebecca, Hannah and Cam crossed his mind as well, but only briefly. They had been wonderful women, but... they had never been her. No eyes had ever been that blue, no hair that silky. No one had ever looked at him with Brennan's heart-crushing combination of vulnerability and stubbornness. No one had ever touched him that deeply.

For so long he had taught his partner about love, had told her about the magic of two people becoming one... it had taken him a while to realize that he could learn a lot from her as well, that she had her very own way of teaching him.

His eyes roamed over the room, and Booth realized that he was almost ready. Almost ready to close the door for a last time, almost ready to go home to his family.

Old times... they had been good, they had been sad. But from now on... it would be their time. And that alone was everything he had ever dreamed of.

-BONES-

Temperance Brennan stood in her kitchen, drinking a glass of fresh orange juice while inside of her the butterflies were moving. Four weeks ago she had felt it for the very first time. Bent over an examination table, reconstructing a skull, something inside of her had fluttered like the softest wing ever, and her whole universe had shifted in a sweet moment of _oh_. Their baby was moving, and even though it was irrational, Brennan couldn't help but thinking that it was her daughter telling her, "I'm here." Every time she felt it, she patted her belly in response. "I'm here as well, baby, waiting for you."

Their daughter... When the doctor had told them, Brennan had experienced a strange moment of heartache, and even though she had been happy herself, it had been _his_ infinite joy which had touched her the most. His big happy tears, his face so full of love...

The way she wanted him... never before had Brennan felt something that strong, that primeval. Sometimes it almost hurt. Sometimes she was almost mad at her growing belly which didn't allow anymore to snuggle up to him as close as she used to.

Leaving her empty glass in the sink, Brennan padded into the living room on bare feet. Her apartment looked different. Ever since they had agreed upon living here, they had prepared it for their expanding family. Bedroom, bathrooms and kitchen, they were basically the same. The former guestroom was Parker's sanctuary. It was a nice room. A bed and a desk, a lot of toys, a little microscope. One wall was painted with celestial orbs, and her face lit up in a smile, as Brennan remembered an afternoon full of laughter, father and son paint-smeared.

Even though they had bought eco-friendly paint which didn't smell, Brennan hadn't been allowed to help. However, she had been allowed to tell them what to do, to point out the correct position of the stars and planets. Parker had been over the moon about the prospect of getting a sister. Even though she had told him repeatedly that it hadn't been her achievement, the boy had looked at her full of awe, not doubting for a second that it had been Bones fulfilling his wish.

However, it had been the living room which had changed the most. Since it was a modern western belief that a baby needed her own room, they had finally opted against new walls and simply rearranged the spacious room. There were corners now. One for snuggling – with a big couch, a cozy carpet and pillows on the floor. One for family dinners – with a big table, solid chairs and candles. And one... one for the baby. They had painted the wall in a light shade of pink. There was a white crib, and there was a diaper-changing table. There was a lamp as well, and switched on it projected colorful butterflies on the wall.

It was a corner of hope and happiness.

Maybe they'd have to move in a few years, maybe Parker would share a room with his sister, maybe they'd erect some walls after all, but for the moment it was perfect.

Taking a seat in the new rocking chair, Brennan caressed her belly while her gaze flew over a room that was waiting to be filled with life, and deep peace settled over her.

Booth was in his old apartment, packing up the rest of his stuff. Over the course of the past weeks most of his everyday things had already mingled with hers. Vintage model cars shared a shelf with old artifacts, his stadium seats were an interesting addition to their rooftop terrace. They had bought a second closet and a new bed as well. Rationally speaking, the bed hadn't been necessary, but in a rare moment of emotional wisdom, she had simply agreed, keeping her mouth shut. Brennan understood his wish to start their new life with a bed she hadn't shared with another man before him.

Along with the increasing size of her belly, her anger about being excluded from cop work had vanished. She felt great, she truly did, but bending over corpses, moving in narrow spaces... it had gotten surprisingly difficult. She had lost her flexibility as well. Brennan had always been proud of her martial art skills, but these days her exercises had changed. A sigh left her lips, as she thought about her prenatal yoga class. The other women there were so... _pregnant_.

Temperance Brennan had embraced the idea of motherhood, she was living in an exclusive romantic relationship with the one man she truly loved, and she was looking forward to their child. However, she was still Temperance Brennan, and she did not want to talk about heartburn, weight gain and cravings. And most definitely, she didn't want to talk about it with strangers.

She found it irritating how her belly had turned into a piece of public interest, and even though it was kind of nice how much their friends felt involved, it was rather disturbing when the waitress in the Diner was approaching her with an outstretched hand before a stern look had been able to stop her last-minute.

Brennan didn't like that at all.

What she liked on the other hand, truly and really liked, was Booth's dark head resting on her belly, telling his daughter about his day. The baby reacted to his voice, and very often a tiny movement inside of her followed his tales. He couldn't feel it yet, but she told him about it every single time. Brennan knew that Booth was happy, that she made him happy, but sometimes she could sense a hunch of sadness, maybe even jealousy, and even though he never mentioned it, she tried to include him as much as she could.

Butterflies, a wave, wind, bubbles – she came up with a lot of words to describe the fluttering sensation inside of her, and he rewarded her with a lot of smiles and kisses.

Another beautiful thing, one she couldn't think about without warmth spreading out inside of her, was their lovemaking. Brennan was incredibly grateful that Booth didn't have a prudish problem with touching his pregnant woman in a sexual way, but, nonetheless, it had gotten different. Over the last weeks it had changed simultaneously with her body. Since he couldn't lift her anymore, pinning her against a wall while pumping into her in a rhythm that left her without any coherent thought, they had settled on more conventional places and positions.

And while their passion was neither inhibited nor denied, sometimes he touched her like a fragile piece of china, reverence written all over his face. Brennan had never thought that care could be sexy, but the way he hold her, the way he rocked her – it made her feel so damn precious and desired.

He made her feel beautiful as well. Brennan had always been slender and well-shaped, and even though she was a sophisticated and well-educated woman, she couldn't help but being a little insecure about her new curves. She hadn't mentioned it, neither had he, but the way he devoured her naked body with his dark eyes, the look of utmost adoration on his face reassured her in a way that words never could.

After all those years, all those ups and downs, all those moments where something had almost happened – after all they've been through... their life had gotten almost ordinary. Their love story had been a tale, had been epic, and now they were past the happy end. Only that it wasn't the end; it wasn't even the beginning. It was just one random moment of happiness, one perfect point where two souls had touched and melted. And if happiness was ordinary, Booth and Brennan didn't mind being ordinary.

Brennan's sweet rocking chair musings were interrupted by his key in the door, and her lips curved up in a smile, as her partner manifested in the room, balancing two big boxes in his arms.

"Hi Babe," she said, before he could do it.

He chuckled in response, putting down the boxes and approaching her.

"You've stolen my line," he complained, and she could smell the salty tangle of man and sweat, as he bent down to kiss her hello.

His lips were moving over hers like warm little pillows, and she hummed in contentment. Considering the sheer number of years she had spent fighting this, it was almost ridiculous how quickly she had gotten addicted to all those signs of affection.

"Do you have a room for one homeless man?" he joked after releasing her, and Brennan regarded him in momentary confusion.

"I'm quite positive that this has to be a joke since your name is already on the papers, and something tells me that I should answer in a romantic way. Hmm... what about... Even if I lived under a bridge, I would always have room for you in my arms."

"Aw," he answered drily but couldn't help being amused by her reply.

Grabbing his shirt, Brennan pulled him down for another kiss, this time less gentle, and for a moment he lost himself in her.

"This is your home, Booth. You've painted the walls, you've put together the crib, you have the love of the people living here," she breathed into his ear after breaking the kiss, sending shivers down his spine.

"Just so you know, you rock, Baby," he stated seriously.

Brennan gave him a cocky grin.

"I do know that."

"I love your modesty."

"I love your tidiness."

"Truce?"

"Fine."

Her gaze wandered from the boxes on the floor back to his face.

"You wanna unpack them?"

Booth regarded the boxes for one silent moment,

"I don't know. Most of it are old memories, and I'm not sure if I wanna unpack them at all. Hefty is there as well, he can join Brainy Smurf later. You know, maybe we should buy Smurfette for our little doll."

"And maybe you should stop calling her 'little doll'."

"Easier said than done, Bones. It's not as if we've found another name, yet."

"You haven't been that cooperative."

"Hey, Maggie is a cute name."

"I'm so not naming my daughter Maggie. And most definitely not because of the yellow cartoon family you love so much."

H groaned in mock disapproval.

"The Simpsons."

"Right. Them. And no."

They hadn't tried that hard to find a name for their baby, yet. After all, they still had four more months. However, since both of them had suffered from their unorthodox names, they had easily agreed on a normal name. Nonetheless, there was more than one kind of normal. She liked Rose. He liked Lucy. They would compromise... eventually.

"If we buy a smurf for our daughter we should buy one for Parker as well."

"Maybe we should get the whole village."

"Minus the cat."

"Hey, you need a villain."

"Can't they just," she shrugged adorably, "live happily ever after?"

"But that's a boring story."

"Are we a boring story?"

"No, but we are not a story. We are real."

"We are boring, then?"

"Do you feel boring?"

She shook her head.

"Not at all."

"Good."

Standing in front of her, Booth took her all in. Comfortable sweatpants, a simple top and a belly band decorated with tiny skulls. The latter was a gift from Angela, and it made him smile every single time. It was so fitting. Six months pregnant, Brennan looked like every incarnation of beauty. Her hair was even softer, her face fuller, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. And, oh holy Jesus, her body... His eyes darkened, as they caressed her curves, and a change in her breath pattern told him that she had sensed it somehow.

Blinking once, twice, Booth tried to banish the haze of longing that clouded his mind, but when he met her gaze, it took his breath away with its intensity.

"I want you as well, Booth, you know that, right? Just as much," she stated, and once again he was taken aback by her way of understanding him.

Crouching down, he took her hand in his, caressing her knuckles with his fingers.

"Not possible."

Leaning forward, she brushed his nose with her own.

"So very possible. You wanna argue about relative positions again?"

His free arm came around her neck, tugging her head to his shoulder.

"From where I am standing, you are perfect. I love you."

"Hmm... that's a relative position I love to hear about," she murmured languidly.

Shifting his head, he pressed a kiss on her temple before releasing her.

"I think I'll grab a quick shower. Any plans for the evening?"

"I'm lazy," she answered, stretching in her rocking chair. "What about watching some episodes of the TV show we stumbled upon last week?"

"Moonlighting?"

"Yes. The male protagonist was quite appealing."

He groaned.

"Yes, because he is _Bruce Willis_. Sometimes I don't know if getting this great TV system was a blessing or a curse."

"I enjoy that show. The description of their work isn't really authentic, but it is quite humorous."

"Yeah, if I recall correctly, they had three good seasons."

"What happened then?"

"Onscreen they hooked up. Off-screen the actors lost interest. The scripts got boring. Of course people blamed it on the loss of sexual tension."

"What do you believe?"

"I believe in good stories. Fulfilled love doesn't have to be boring."

She smiled at his answer.

"We are the proof."

"Yes, but then again, we are real, Babe."

"But if we were a story..."

"We would still be mind-blowing."

"You wanna watch some episodes then?"

"You, the TV, the couch – I'm one happy man."

"Great. You take your shower, I'll prepare the popcorn."

One quick kiss later she was alone again without... being alone. Cupping her belly, Brennan got up and walked into the kitchen. The sound of running water and his carefree humming accompanied her.

"You know what?" she spoke to the baby. "I love him, I really do. But I promise you that I won't let him name you 'Maggie'."

The baby shifted inside of her, and even though Brennan knew that it was pure coincidence or a simple reaction to her own movement, she liked the idea that her daughter agreed with her.

Fifteen minutes later, Brennan was sprawled out on the couch, her head lying in Booth's lap, a huge bowl of popcorn resting on her belly. His fingers played with her dark hair absentmindedly while the events on the TV screen unfolded. Every now and then his free hand snatched into the bowl, providing either her or himself with a mouthful of the sweet treat. Chewing slowly, he relished the ridiculous perfection of the moment, the sensation of her petal-like lips touching his fingers whenever he fed her, the weight of her head on his thigh.

"Hey, Bones?"

"Huh?"

"We're living together."

A smile spread out on her face, as she turned her head until she could look up at him. Damp hair, dark eyes, weekend stubble. Coziness itself.

"I know."

"It's pretty cool, huh?"

"I love it," she said, and her voice was as sweet as the popcorn. Her dark hair was splayed out on his lap, her pale blue eyes were calmer than any ocean could ever be but just as deep.

"Do you believe it fate?" he asked one more time, one corner of his mouth curving up.

"Absolutely not," she responded, as always.

"I still do."

"Fate, coincidence, free will – whatever it has been, Booth, we're here now."

"Isn't that reassuring?"

"It is about time. One year ago... I was so sure that I had lost you."

His face clouded for the fraction of a moment.

"I have been so stupid."

"So have I. I believe that, among the three of us, Hannah has been the truly smart one. She has known her place and her time."

He stroked her cheek in a featherlight caress.

"You're so gracious. So warm, so open-hearted..."

She let go of a brief laughter.

"Oh, Booth, believe me when I tell you that Hannah had a very prominent role in my perfect murder plan."

"You have never given up on me, Bones."

She shrugged.

"You believe in fate, and I have always believed in you."

His heart opened, and he was carried away by a wave of mushiness. Bending down, he sought her lips for a kiss that was teetering on the brink of desperation.

"One day, one day you are killing me with your words."

She frowned.

"They were meant to delight you."

"Yeah, and I will die a happy man."

"You are not allowed to die, Booth," she insisted in child-like stubbornness, and he almost had to smile.

"Sorry, I won't die. Not at all."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm still struggling with those pregnancy hormones."

"Aw, you're cute."

Brennan ogled him inquiringly, finally deciding that he was serious. Shaking her head in incomprehension, she pulled him down to kiss him again. His lips parted for hers, his tongue explored the depth of her mouth, tangling with hers. One hand sneaked under her head, supporting her, while his other one cupped the sensitive globe of her breast, swirling his thumb over the already taut bud.

She moaned at his touch, arching into it, and his response was instinctual, as he growled low in his throat, deepening the kiss. He played her like an instrument he knew very well, pulling just the right strings. At some point, the popcorn fell down, but she couldn't care less. All that mattered were his hands on her, his lips on her.

Then she could smell him, the very unique scent of his arousal lingering in the air, and she was burning.

Clothes were discarded, hands were everywhere. Their breathless moans and sighs mingled with the voices coming out of the TV, but none of them could bother to search the remote between the cushions.

Then he was moving over her, in her – so very carefully not to crush her, giving and taking at the same time. Brennan didn't even know what aroused her more, the giving or the taking part, but she couldn't really think about it too long. This was Booth looking at her, his face twisted in sweet agony, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. It were his strong back under her hands, his narrow hips between her spread thighs, his flat belly brushing her rounded one, his body so deep inside of her.

His warmth rushing into her and out of her, imprinting her all over again, giving her what only he had ever been able to give.

And when her world was quivering, when her muscles contracted around his pulsating heat, she held his gaze, letting him fall with her and into her.

Consummation... if it was boring, Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan were very happy with that label.

To be continued...

_Okay, I need your inspiration. Writing happiness can be boring, but I refuse to drown into artificial problems, and I suck at writing cases. I have some more ideas, but please, help me. Inspire me. What do you want to read? And... do you still wanna read more? _


	13. An Outcome

XIII. An Outcome

October arrived with a few chilly days in a row, and crispy red leaves covered the pavement. Nature prepared itself for the sleep of winter, but inside of Temperance Brennan something was blooming. The baby was developing just fine, and her own blood test results came back within normal limits. Her hair was fuller somehow, and some of her old curls made an appearance – much to Booth's delight.

Physically speaking, it was an easy pregnancy so far, but Brennan thought it was only fair that for once something between her and Booth could be easy. The path that had led to their relationship, to this house built upon happy ground and trust, had been lined with more than enough thorns. They truly deserved something easy for a chance.

And besides... easy didn't mean dull. They were a couple, they were two people in love expecting a baby, but, still, they were Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan. They disagreed, they argued, they bickered. They compromised, laughed and made up.

One evening he came home battered and bruised, an arrest which hadn't gone so well, and Brennan bit her lips while treating his wounds with iodine. She wanted to yell at him, she wanted to hug him, and the emotions were so strong and difficult that she couldn't do anything at all. This wasn't the first time that he had been hurt, but it was the first time she hadn't been there to help him. _Knowing_ that she wouldn't have been much of a help and _feeling_ so utterly helpless were two entirely different things, though.

After half an hour of silence, Booth couldn't stand it anymore, and in the end she yelled at him while he hugged her. As tight as possible without crushing her. Murmuring sweet nonsense into her ear, Booth felt her pain but couldn't help her.

Eventually... fears would subside, bruises would fade, they would survive. Everything would be just fine... as long as he could hold her in his arms.

And while he didn't stop being a cop, she didn't stop being a world-renowned forensic anthropologist, and so the first week of October found her at a conference in Vancouver. It was their first separation ever since that night which had changed everything. Four days without him. Four nights without her.

The first day was quite fine; Brennan was profoundly distracted by the conference, and she enjoyed catching up with other scientists. Her pregnancy attracted some attention – after all, she was Dr. Temperance Brennan – but in the end nobody bothered her too much. It was around ten pm that first night, and she was alone in her hotel room, ready to go to bed, when missing Booth overwhelmed her like a sudden rush. The baby had been still all day long, and for the first time in months she felt alone somehow. She was grateful that he was so big that at least his shirt did still fit her, and lying in the foreign, empty bed, Brennan sought comfort in his familiar scent that lingered in the soft fabric.

After ten minutes in lonely stillness she decided that it was ridiculous not to call him, and his dark voice covered her raw heart like the sweetest balm. When they had whispered their goodbyes, Brennan lay smiling in the darkness, and the cold sting of loneliness was gone. She was a relationship kind of woman now...

The second day Booth awoke with a cold chest. Sometime during the night his blanket had ended up as a tangle around his feet, and his arms that were so used to holding her felt empty. Lolling in bed alone seemed futile, and he got up with little vigor. He didn't bother to rinse his coffee mug, and when he regarded the crumbles of his toast on the kitchen counter, he thought about leaving them right there. After a moment of silly naughtiness, _she_ won, and he rolled his eyes, as he thought how Brennan had rubbed off on him.

Her lecture went by very satisfyingly, resulting in a heated debate, and Brennan enjoyed the day immensely. Even though she worked a lot, the scientist in her had gotten the short end of the stick off late, and when the discussion was transferred to a nearby restaurant, she just wrote Booth a text. His call went to voicemail, and that second night it was him who tossed and turned while waiting for the soft cover of sleep.

The third day the sun rose to a rainy Canadian morning, and Brennan awoke after a night of strange dreams. Her cheeks were pale, and she fought against nausea the better part of the day. The baby's movements were accompanied by a queasy feeling, and she was in desperate need for a hug. His voice was grumpy, when she called him, and for a brief moment something inside of her clenched.

Regardless of how well she knew him, how close they were, reading someone with more than two thousand miles in between was still hard for her, even though the person was Booth. Her voice was tiny and vulnerable as she said, "I love you," and he sighed, feeling bad for burdening her with his peevish mood. It wasn't her fault that he felt like a kid whose favorite teddy was missing. And, of course, he would never tell her that he had compared her to a stuffed animal.

He wrote her a long email after they had ended the call, telling her about his empty arms, the crumble-less kitchen counter, the sad-looking rocking chair. Telling her about four days which felt like a stalemate while he was waiting for life to return to him. Maybe it was pathetic, maybe it was corny, but he had her reply five minutes later.

"I cannot wait to come home to you..."

And maybe feeling pathetic was okay as long as it was mutual.

He cleaned their apartment that night, did the laundry and changed the bed linen. He even baked for her; without any hope, but in the end the carrot cinnamon pie looked just fine. Booth shook his head in disgust and pride, as he regarded the hot pie, unsure if he should yell, "Hallelujah," for Brennan still craving pie, or if he should feel offended that it had to be carrots and cinnamon.

Brennan's conference ended around four pm, and, wrapped into a big scarf, she braved the chilly Canadian autumn and explored the city. She browsed some shops and bought a few souvenirs for Booth and her friends. With the prospect of flying home tomorrow, she could finally enjoy herself and the solitude. She even asked someone to take a picture of her, after all, it was her daughter's first trip to another country.

She almost berated herself for the uncharacteristic weakness that had accompanied her on the trip. Brennan had always been so strong, so self-assured, but she wasn't used to being alone anymore. Over the past weeks... or months... maybe even years... she had gotten dependent somehow, and the feeling was rather unpleasant. However, in a strange moment of clarity she understood that it was the other side, the darker side of belonging. It was worth it.

Then it was Thursday, and when her plane landed in Washington D.C., when she made her way through the arrival area, his face stood out in the sea of people, calling out to her. A smile bloomed on her face, brightened even her eyes, and when she threw herself into his spread arms, he caught her, and she was home. He smelled like everything she had missed, and she smelled like everything he had missed as well. A sigh left his lips, as he felt her heavy body in his arms, her rounded belly pressed against his strong midsection, Canadian air in her hair.

Their lips found each other for a kiss that was almost triumphant, and when they walked towards the exit, he carried her bag with one hand while his other arm was securely around her, holding her close.

"You're back," he murmured to no one in particular, but she nodded nonetheless because back she was, and this was exactly where she wanted to be.

"I've missed you, Booth."

"Tell me..."

"Well, I had trouble sleeping, and I experienced unpleasant queasiness."

He chuckled about her literalness that was so familiar.

"That was just a saying, meaning that I know a lot about missing you as well. Wait," he interrupted himself, "you didn't feel well? Are you okay? The baby?"

"We are fine, really," she reassured him. "Nothing a hug couldn't cure."

He laughed out briefly, and before she could blink, she was twisted around, captured in the circle of his strong arms.

"Let me cure you, then," he whispered lovingly while his palms stroked over her back, and she surrendered herself to his endearment with a sweet smile.

"Already better," she said after a while, but he didn't let go of her.

"I think I need a hug as well."

"I am hugging you," she answered, her voice muffled by his coat, but her arms around his neck tightened nonetheless.

"Get a room."

A voice next to them tore them out of their private moment, but when they blinked, the stranger was already gone.

"Home?"

"Home."

She loved the pie. He loved his gift, even though the boxers with the maple leaf pattern looked ridiculous somehow. She loved the tidy apartment. He loved the long-missed sight of her sitting in the rocking chair, her voice filling their place with life.

He loved her.

And she loved him.

-BONES-

Autumn deepened, and despite the changes which took place, life felt normal somehow. Angela was back in the lab, at least part-time, and Michael was a happy little baby boy who already possessed his mother's charm. As unconventional as their relationship had been, Angela's and Hodgins' parenthood was, and their boy was only six months old when he went to his first karaoke party.

Wearing tiny earmuffs, Michael slept through most of it, missing Booth's and Brennan's interpretation of "I've got you, Babe," and a moment full of gratitude and sadness, as the whole team performed "Put the lime in the coconut" again. However, it was Sweets who took the cake, singing "Summertime", and even though it was autumn, it was the perfect lullaby both for little Michael and Booth's and Brennan's unborn daughter.

In a moment of unadulterated bliss Booth hired the psychologist as their future babysitter, but Brennan kicked her partner under the table, hissing that she wanted to protect their child from the soft but dangerous influence of psychology as long as possible. They compromised that Sweets could be their babysitter for as long as the baby couldn't talk.

The night deepened, and spirits where high while beer was flowing; only Angela and Brennan had to stay sober and exchanged knowing glances every now and then. Some strangers walked by, indignant about a baby and a pregnant woman in the cheery circle, but Angela dismissed them with one stern look, telling them that they should take their prudish beliefs home and that they hadn't seen anything before meeting the babies' grandfathers.

It dampened the spirits, though, and half an hour later Angela stowed husband and baby seat in her car while the others hailed several cabs.

In the back of their taxi, Booth's head fell onto Brennan's shoulder.

"That was fun."

She smiled, tilting her head to kiss his temple.

"I agree. Do you think it was wrong to take Michael with us?"

"The comments still bothering you?"

"Surprisingly yes. It seems that when it comes to raising children, everyone has a very strong opinion."

"Hmm. I think it was unusual but not wrong. There was no smoke. He wore those cute earmuffs, looking quite happy with them. Angela was sober, you were sober. Hodgins didn't have more than two beers. The same goes for me. I think it's just right, the way they're living their life."

"I don't think it was wrong, either..."

"We have our very own way as well, Babe. Skeletons... they are scary for a lot of kids, but I bet our daughter will be able to name the bones by the age of two."

Brennan's eyes widened in sudden shock.

"But what if it scares her? What if my artifacts scare her?"

Booth chuckled lazily, nuzzling the crook of her neck with his face.

"She is _your_ daughter, and, besides, I have the utmost faith in you to explain it to her _rationally_."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Not really. Look at Parker, Bones. He loves science stuff because of you. He isn't afraid. Doesn't find it strange. You have that spark, this weird kind of passion which fills skeletons with life." He chuckled, adding, "Metaphorically speaking."

She joined in his laughter.

"That was quite amusing. Thank you, Booth."

"What for?"

"You never fail to renew my courage. I believe in a good outcome, every day, because of you. You have that spark as well, you know? You fill life with love."

"Aw, Bones..."

Their lips met for a soft kiss, but she wrinkled her nose.

"You taste like beer."

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay, it's just... bitter. Maybe my taste buds have changed over the months of abstinence."

The cab chose that moment to stop in front of their building, and she paid the driver while Booth got out of the car, circling it to open her door. Not fighting him on this anymore, Brennan took his outstretched hand, as he helped her out of the car.

The hour was dark, the air silent, and in this random October night one man and one woman were returning to their home after an evening full of friendship and laughter. And life was good.

-BONES-

The next day brought a surprise guest because when Booth opened their door, he found himself face to face with Max Keenan. They hadn't met him after the brief encounter in the Diner again, and even though the old crook had grown on him, Booth needed a moment to regain his composure at the unexpected visit.

"Max! You're back from LA?"

Max nodded.

"Just arrived the other day. Cannot wait to see my baby girl."

"Dad?"

Brennan walked around the corner, and the older man's face brightened, as he took in the woman and the visible proof of his grandchild.

"Tempe! Look at you!"

Two steps later, he had enveloped his daughter in a strong hug, and Brennan responded with a puzzled but soft smile on her face.

"How nice to see you."

"You look beautiful," he stated, his eyes zooming in on her belly, after stepping away from her.

"Thanks."

"Seven months?"

"Seven months."

"And you're having a girl, a little doll."

"Ha," Booth threw in, and Brennan rolled her eyes.

"What is it about men calling little girls like that?"

Max and Booth exchanged one glance that said more than words.

"I'm here to go out with my son-in-law."

"We're not married," two voices protested in unison, but Max dismissed them with a curt gesture.

"It's just a label. He's the closest thing to a husband you'll ever have, Tempe."

"Why do you wanna abduct him?"

"Yeah, why?" Booth added, not so delighted about the prospect himself.

"Quality time. Besides, we need to talk."

Brennan took a step in Booth's direction and laced her fingers with his. Her father watched this subtle display of affection with a warm smile. All those years... damn it, but Max Keenan couldn't help but enjoy the sight of them as a couple.

"You're not allowed to hurt him."

"Hey, I would never do that," Max stated ever so innocently, and Brennan turned around to her partner.

"You are not allowed to hurt him, either."

"I'll try," Booth answered drily.

Ten minutes later Booth followed his father-in-law – he cringed inwardly at the word – to his car. Max said nothing for a while, concentrating on steering the vehicle through the city's traffic.

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" Booth finally found the nerve to ask.

"Your intentions."

"My intentions? Seriously? I thought my intentions were crystal clear."

"How so? You always denied being more than, what was the tern... 'just partners'."

"Well, you know..."

"What do I know? I know that my daughter is a very beautiful woman, and I know that you got her pregnant without marrying her."

"Hey, I care about her, okay? I love her. I would marry her right here, right now. But she's not ready. I have every intention to spend the rest of my life with her. I would die for her, I would kill for her, and I would do everything possible to make her and our kid happy. Okay?"

Max' face brightened in a smug grin.

"I know. I guess I just wanted to hear it. Took you long enough, son. Yeah, and before you say anything, I know that it took her even longer. I'm happy, Booth, I really am. You're a good man. A strong man. Very devoted to her. And you can stand your ground. She needs that. She's just like her mother..."

Max Keenan's words stole Booth's thunder, and he regarded the older man dumbstruck.

"Wow, thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome."

"Anyways, where are we going?"

"Quality time. Be patient."

Patient he was, at least he tried so, but when they walked into a dim-lit room some time later, Booth found it hard not to turn around on his heels and run. He didn't even know what he had expected, but... most definitely not this.

"Is this your Poker group?" Booth hissed, but Max shook his head.

"Nope. I met Animal," he pointed at a tattooed man across the room, "in prison. Very nice guy, he just had a problem with, well, respecting others' possessions. Always said his fingers kind of itched. And he found an adequate but unconventional way to deal with the itching."

"I guess so," Booth mumbled.

Seven men were sitting in a circle, neither of them looked like Booth wanted to befriend him. There were older and younger men, but all of them were muscle-packed, wearing long hair, beards and leather jackets.

"Motorcycle club?" Booth took another well-educated guess, but Max shook his head once more.

"Nice men, really."

A trace of smoke and sweat was lingering in the air, and the soft violin concert coming out of a CD player in the corner was the strongest contradiction Booth had ever witnessed. However, it wasn't even the weirdest thing about this scenario because... the men were knitting.

Knitting. Wool. Knitting needles. The thing nice old cat ladies and grannies do. Booth spotted a colorful scarf, some socks, and one of the men was finishing the last stitches on a woolen hat.

"Okay..."

"We are here to knit, Booth."

"How? Why?"

Max shrugged.

"I thought we could make socks for the little doll. I even bought pink wool," he added with a twinkle.

"I've never done that before."

"I will teach you. Besides... I guess you know a thing or two about itching fingers as well."

The other men greeted them with silent nods, as they took their seats, and Animal stood up, approaching them with two mugs in his hand.

"Hi Max. Tea?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Your son-in-law?"

"The very same."

A low grumble came out of the big man's throat, as his eyes wandered over Booth's form, and the latter experienced a strange Brennan-y moment, as he didn't know what that meant.

Well, they knitted. After the initial shock had subsided, Booth could, if not enjoy, at least tolerate it. His fingers were stiff and clumsy, but somehow they managed making two teeny socks. Max was a good teacher, and the other men turned out to be quite helpful. It's wasn't that bad, but it was more than weird.

It was already dark, when Max stopped his car in front of Booth's and Brennan's apartment building, releasing the younger man with a pad on his shoulder.

"I'm happy that she has found you."

"I'm happy that I have found her, as well. Max, thanks for... ahem, everything," he tried, and Max chuckled.

"Relax, you don't have to do it again. But look at the outcome," he pointed at the tiny socks in Booth's hand, "and remember, whenever you look at them, that you have always more than one choice in life. Never forget."

"Thanks."

Booth closed the car door, and his eyes followed the vehicle until it had disappeared around a corner. Shaking his head, he mumbled something about hidden cameras. When he opened the door to their apartment, Brennan's voice called him.

"Booth?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, thank God, you're back. That was long. I've been worried. Are you hurt?"

"No, and before you ask, neither is your dad. At least not gravely, I only poked him with a knitting needle."

"A knitting needle?"

Brennan approached him, her eyes wide in confusion, and he placed the pink socks in her hand. The stitches were uneven, the sizes slightly different, but, somehow, they were perfect in their imperfection.

"You've made them?" she asked incredulously.

"Don't ask. Just don't ask," he exclaimed dramatically, fleeing her questioning glance.

Brennan followed him as agilely as she could, finding him sprawled out on the sofa.

"You know that I absolutely have to ask, don't you?" she asked with a smirk in her eyes, and he groaned.

"You won't believe it."

"Humor me."

In the end she did believe him, after all, her father was one very unique and unpredictable man, and she distributed a lot of hugs and kisses to compensate Booth for the humiliation he had suffered as Animal had told him that he wasn't holding the knitting needle correctly. And later, much later, he was laughing together with her, and he carried just a little bit of pride about the tiny pink outcome in his heart

Because... as weird as it might be, it was their family. And it was awesome.

To be continued...

_Hi there! I proudly announce: I'm back on track, I know exactly what's going to happen. Plus, have you seen those beautiful Emily photos? Can you believe that this is just how Brennan will look like when Bones will be back in November? *sighs happily*_


	14. An Evolution

_Smut alert :-)_

XIV. An Evolution

The early morning October sun was shining in through the half-closed blinds, as Brennan awoke at dawn. It was Sunday, and torn between the desire to snuggle up to a certain warm body next to her and the urge to use the bathroom, she just watched her snoring partner for one blissful moment. Whenever she had the chance to observe him sleeping, she could feel her metaphorical heart spilling over with love for him... however, when something else threatened to spill over, she disentangled herself from him, padding towards the bathroom on swollen feet.

Apparently, her daughter had found a very comfortable position right on her bladder.

When she came back just a minute later, her eyes fell to the pink socks lying on her bedside table, and a smile played around her lips. It was almost too hard to believe that such a big man like Booth had made something so delicate and tiny with his own hands.

The mattress shifted, when she crawled back into bed, shifted even more, when she tried to find a position her back would tolerate, and then she was greeted by a soft fluttering sensation deep inside of her. It seemed as if someone else aside from her was already awake.

"Hi baby," she murmured sweetly, patting her belly.

"Is it morning already?" Booth mumbled beside her, still half-asleep, and she wrapped her arms around his body.

"Yes, but it's Sunday. Go back to sleep," she soothed.

"Hmm. Why are you awake?"

"The baby was lying on my bladder."

Underneath their blankets his warm palm cupped her belly, rubbing softly.

"Do your mommy a favor and turn around."

The baby responded with a soft kick – to the sound of his voice or to the pressure of his hand – and Brennan chuckled at the familiar but ticklish feeling. However, next to her a pair of deep brown eyes flew open.

"_Oh_..."

"Oh?"

"She moved."

"Yes, I know."

"Bones... I know as well. I could feel it," he whispered almost reverently, and awe was written all over his sleep-wrinkled face.

"Hi baby," he said, just a little bit louder while caressing Brennan's belly with firm strokes, and, again, he could feel a little bump in response.

"She's kicking me!"

Brennan chuckled, even though the moment was touching in its sweetness. It was the first time that he could feel their child moving, the first time that he could actually grasp that there was life growing inside of her.

"Finally."

His tousled head disappeared under the blanket, and then she could feel his lips brushing over her belly.

"My little girl," came his muffled voice, and it was music to her ears. "Soon, so very soon I will be able to see you. Your mommy is here as well, and we love you very much."

It was dark and warm under the cocoon of the blanket, and Booth was grateful for the cover, as he could feel moisture prickling behind his closed eyelids. This moment... he had yearned for it, waited for it, and even though it was kind of ridiculous, Booth felt as if he had just found a link to their kid, as if he could communicate with her.

His face pressed to the warm and firm swelling of her midsection, Booth sighed deeply, as Brennan's hands dove under the blanket, her long finger raking through his hair, massaging his scalp.

He awaited one more tiny bump, pressed one more kiss right over a little hand or little foot before he moved upwards again. Pale blue eyes awaited him, so bright that they almost dazzled him, and he burrowed his hands in her curly hair before he captured her lips in a deep kiss.

Taken aback by his raw hunger, she moaned into his mouth, and the sound left a burning trail of heat behind, as it whispered over his skin.

"I love you, Baby," he uttered between nips and sucks, and the words echoed in her chest.

"Yes," she just said, "oh yes."

Eager to feel as much of him as possible, Brennan kicked the blanket aside, and he rolled onto his side, taking her with him. His arms like a lifebelt around her, she was drowning in his kisses, her body vibrating with forceful need. Seven months pregnant, she was neither slender nor graceful anymore, her body heavy, her ankles swollen, but she could feel his desire for her overwhelming him... and suddenly she felt as wanton and sexy as she had very rarely felt before.

Her hands traveled down his back to his well-defined ass, kneading the firm muscles in her hand, and he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently.

A sob escaped her mouth, as her core pulsated almost painfully, and, losing no time, she abandoned his buttocks, searching for the hardness between his legs. It was there, waiting for her; heat and velvet and steal in her palm. He groaned, as she stroked him deliciously, and his own hand found the fullness of her breasts under her nightgown, squeezing gently.

She had gotten tender, so tender, but he knew exactly how to touch her, how to roll her nipples between his fingers, how to fondle the aching globes, how to catapult her to a sphere of boneless longing and heavenly bliss.

Her little moans and sighs drove him crazy alongside with her firm grip on him, and while his fingers played with her breasts, his other hand moved between her legs, demanding access. Her thighs fell apart immediately, and he palmed the dampness of her panties, rubbing her with the full length of his hand.

She squirmed next to him, an excited flush covering her cheeks, her eyes closed, as she absorbed the pleasure, and Booth almost lost it at the sight of her. Breathing heavily, he stilled, and her dazed eyes flew open, as he flipped her onto her back.

Capturing her wrists, he pinned them above her head with one big hand, and the dark fire in his eyes created tingles on her sensitive skin.

"Booth..."

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he murmured, and she figured that it had been a rhetoric question because one second later his mouth slanted down on hers, and she could feel his fingers in her panties, parting her, sliding into her wetness.

Her hands restrained, she wriggled in his hold, but he held her safely in place, while his fingers caressed her so intimately.

"Not fair," she panted between kisses, and with a chuckle his lips left hers, tracing the line of her jaw before grazing her earlobe with his teeth.

His tongue dipped into her ear, briefly, evoking a sharp gasp.

"Sorry," he murmured, "just had to distract you from touching me for a while."

"So, you are allowed to drive me crazy, but I am not?" she tried to reason.

"Ahem... yes."

"That, ah... doesn't make any sense..."

"You wanna argue?" he asked huskily, while he entered her with a second finger, stroking her silken walls.

"No..."

When his own arousal felt somehow controllable again, Booth released her wrists, and, instantly, her arms flew around his neck, pulling him close. He shifted, careful not to apply pressure to her belly, and nuzzled her neck with his face.

"I want you," she stated seriously, and a low laugh left his chest.

"I did not see that coming."

Torn between laughing and pouting, she brushed his chest with her fingernails, causing him to gasp as well.

"Shut up and take off your boxers," she demanded, and without further teasing, he brought himself to a sitting position and obeyed.

Brennan let go of him and watched him silently for one luscious moment. Golden skin, strong muscles, dark hair, and between his thighs his proud manhood was towering. She licked her lips absentmindedly. It had been more than a week since she had taken him into her mouth the last time, and the idea was tempting, so tempting. However, she needed him and she couldn't wait any longer.

Booth watched her watching him and grew impossibly harder under her searing hot gaze. Lying back, he spread his legs slightly and stretched out his hand.

"Come," he just said, and she blinked, as if torn out of a reverie.

"Yes."

After getting rid of her panties and pulling the flimsy white nightgown over her head, she straddled his hips, holding her belly with one hand while leading him to her entrance with the other one. Motherhood and sexuality... for some people it might be a contradiction, but Brennan and Booth weren't among them; the love they felt for their baby was innocent and pure, but the bond between themselves...

It was everything and so much more... but not innocent. With a gasp, she lowered herself to him, taking him all in, and his grown vibrated in the Sunday morning room, as her female heat surrounded him.

"Oh, yes..."

She set a slow but steady rhythm, rocking back and forth with swaying hips, and his hands flew to her buttocks, as he met her strokes from below. Pale blue bore into chocolate brown, and her eyelids fluttered under the intensity of his gaze. A smile brightened her face, mingling with arousal, and the oh so sensual sight of his partner riding him took his breath away.

Her breasts were heavy, areolas darker than a few months ago, and she was so pregnant but so sexy. A dark line lead from her navel to the dusky triangle of short curls, and his eyes followed it until he could see where they were joined. He saw himself glistening with her moisture, dark and hard, disappearing into her over and over again.

Leaving her read end, his hands roamed over her body, feeling every curve, every inch of satiny skin.

"So sexy," he uttered, and the breathless tone in his voice hit her deeply.

Pressure was building deep in her center, but it was as sweet as honey, and then one of his hands moved between their bodies. She cried out, as he tapped her swollen bundle of nerves with one bold finger.

Contractions began, tentatively at first, but soon, so very soon they consumed her with soft force, consuming him as well, and the sensation of her slick walls milking him was too much, simply too much. With a loud growl he followed her into heavenly bliss; coming in her, with her and for her.

Bending over, Brennan met him for a languid kiss, and he responded automatically, his arms cradling her in the safest embrace ever.

And it was Sunday.

It was Sunday as perfect as they come, and after a brief nap and another hour of snuggling he spoiled her with pancakes, fruit salad and fresh coffee. Brennan was so wholeheartedly happy that she didn't even complain about the decaf coffee – "I'm allowed to have one cup of _real_ coffee every once in a while, Booth." – and it was still early when they picked up one very excited boy at his mother's house.

Because it was Sunday... and there was one more man who couldn't await the arrival of their new family member.

-BONES-

They spent the ride with anecdotes and laughter, and the birds where chirping, when Booth stopped the car in front of the Willow River Retirement Community. The gray-haired man was already waiting for them, sitting on a bench outside of the building, lolling in the mild autumn sun.

"Gramps!" Parker screamed while hurrying out of the car, running towards his great-grandfather who had always been nothing but "Gramps" to him.

Hank caught the boy with a loving smile on his face, and Booth watched the reunion with sweet ache. Brennan walked next to him, her arm sneaking around his waist in a gesture which meant nothing and everything at the same time.

"He is happy here."

Booth squeezed her gratefully.

"I know. It's just," he laughed awkwardly, "they grow up so fast."

Brennan chuckled.

"That's life... everything is like it should be."

They walked towards Parker and Hank arm in arm, and the latter greeted them with a beaming smile.

"My shrimp and his lady."

Hank got up and enveloped his grandson in a strong hug; a hug that transported Booth back to the past when he had to tilt his head to meet the older man's eyes; a hug that was one of the few fond childhood memories he carried in his heart.

"Pops... good to see you."

"And our beautiful Bones. Tell me, how is my little great-granddaughter today?"

Turning to Brennan, Hank took her into his arms as well, and she giggled, as she bumped him with her belly accidentally. She had always gotten along very well with Booth's grandfather, but, nonetheless, the first time he had called her "Bones" had been odd. However, she had gotten used to it, and now it seemed perfectly natural that the other Booth men had picked up her partner's nickname for her as well.

"She's fine, moving around a lot."

The baby emphasized the statement with a kick, and Hank's wrinkled face lit up in delight.

"Whoa! I can feel it."

Parker's eyes got as big as saucers, and he lost no time to squeeze himself between Brennan and Hank.

"Bones, you were supposed to tell me!" he pouted, and Brennan patted his head.

"Sorry, Parker, it only happened this morning. I kind of forgot."

"It's amazing," Booth threw in, while a dreamlike look washed over his face.

His favorite people in the world forming a funny hug sandwich were one view to enjoy.

Parker's little hands tickled over Brennan's belly – showing no sign of modesty, he had shoved them straight under her shirt – and then the boy squealed.

"She has kicked me as well. Lilly has kicked me!"

Brennan's brow furrowed, as she exchanged one glance with her equally puzzled partner.

"Lilly?"

"Yeah," Parker answered absentmindedly, still poking his sister. "Dad always calls her 'lil' doll' or 'lil' one'. I figured it was kind of a nickname for Lilly anyways."

"Lilly..."

Brennan tested the name on her lips, and suddenly the world around and inside of her vanished, as she found the same resolution on Booth's face. He nodded slightly, and something shifted and clicked.

Lilly.

"You're right, Parker," Brennan finally said. "Lilly is a beautiful name."

"I know. You've chosen a good one."

"We've chosen it kind of together, but it is a good one."

His heart too full to bear, Booth approached them and wrapped his arms around everyone he could reach, feeling wrinkled skin, satiny hair, soft curls and so much more.

"I can always appreciate a good hug," Hank's voice finally came out of the tangle of limbs and heads, "but since the only woman involved is already taken, we should put an end to it before the guys see me like this."

Booth rolled his eyes.

"There is nothing unmanly about a family hug."

"Yeah, but it looks kind of mushy, Shrimp."

They took a walk in the vast park surrounding the house, and with one pregnant woman and a man in his eighties, their pace was kind of slow. Parker got bored after a few minutes, and father and son started to play with the football Booth had brought along.

Hank watched the two with profound pride, but every once in a while his eyes flickered to the silent woman walking next to him.

"Lilly is one fine name," he finally stated, and a smile as fragile as a buttercup was his answer.

"I think so."

"You haven't really chosen it, have you?"

"No," Brennan admitted, "but it feels right. It is beautiful and strong at the same time. Plus, it has somehow revealed itself."

"It's kind of fitting that the name comes just as unexpectedly as the baby herself, isn't it?"

Brennan chuckled.

"I suppose."

"By the way, there is one joke I've meant to make for a while now."

Hank bumped her playfully with his shoulder, and her eyebrows arched up.

"Huh?"

"Steel ovaries? My boy didn't need that much time to crack them."

Brennan threw her head back, and Booth turned around, as her throaty laughter filled the air. She looked beautiful, carefree and funny, waddling next to his grandfather, and his chest almost burst with pride.

Parker chose that moment to run to his side.

"You're happy, Dad?"

Grabbing his son, Booth threw him over his shoulder, and soon the sound of Parker's laughter mingled with Brennan's.

"Over the moon, Parks, over the moon."

They walked some more, savored homemade cake and hot chocolate, and a few photos were taken. Despite his former aversion against mushiness, Hank made sure to show off with his family in front of his friends, his arm possessively around Brennan's waist. She indulged him with a generous smile, and even Booth couldn't muster as much as a hunch of jealousy.

It was almost eight o'clock in the evening when they were on their way back to the city; Brennan, Booth, Parker... and Lilly.

-BONES-

Heavy rain accompanied the beginning of the third trimester of her pregnancy, and Lilly was sixteen inches long, as October turned into November. Brennan experienced the first unpleasant contractions, and one night she needed half an hour and a lot of persuasiveness to talk Booth out of rushing to the hospital. It was perfectly normal, and not even her doctor was worried about those early Braxton Hicks contractions.

Her breasts had started leaking – another very natural bodily function, but, nonetheless, it turned Brennan's cheeks to a dark shade of crimson every time she thought about the very inappropriate moment it had happened the first time. At least Booth had been able to take it with humor, thank God for that. He really was the perfect partner.

Lilly was moving a lot, and, even though it was reassuring, with every inch she grew it felt more and more uncomfortable. Brennan had trouble finding an adequate position at night, and even though she enjoyed being pregnant most of the time, lately, she found it hard to relax.

Her mood was grumpy, and Booth observed her with compassion and concern. If only he could help her somehow... he would do everything for her, well, except for giving birth to their child.

It was a gray Thursday in the early days of November, and it was already past eight when he could hear Brennan's key in the door. Stirring the pasta in the boiling water, he called her.

"Hey, Bones."

He could hear the sound of shoes being kicked off, followed by a low sigh, and then the woman herself walked into the kitchen, almost falling into his arms.

"I've changed my mind, I don't want to be pregnant anymore."

Abandoning the pasta, he rubbed the small of her back in soothing circles.

"Poor Baby... What do you want?"

"A bladder that lasts longer than thirty minutes. Breasts which don't leak. I wanna sleep on my stomach. Just give me a new body."

He chuckled in empathy.

"But I love your body. How about... Bones, let's go away. Veterans Day is coming up with a long weekend in tow. Let's get out of the town for a few days. Rent a nice cabin somewhere. A cozy fireplace... big tub... What do you say?"

"Sounds lovely. As long as it doesn't involve me moving," she murmured.

"You don't have to. It's settled, then."

The next day he pulled a few strings and found a nice little retreat in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. It was only a three hours ride from Washington D.C., and, Brennan's bladder in mind, Booth made sure to pick a route with a lot of rest houses.

It was their first vacation, and even though it was only a mini-break, Booth was more than satisfied. Going on vacation with your girlfriend? Check.

Cabin Creekwood, their accommodation, offered cozy cabins, and the landscape was simply breathtaking. The soft curves of the green-blue hills were caressing the horizon, grazing the sky, and the autumn trees provided them with spectacular colors. On their way to the cabin they had bypassed Sherando Lake, and the silent surface of the water had looked like a picture captured in time.

It was peaceful, and both of them enjoyed the ride in silence. Even the baby was cooperative, not kicking her mother too much, and Brennan inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the crystal clear air. It smelled like earth and nature and autumn.

Their cabin was charming, the wooden interior had a nice touch. There was a big and solid bed, a fireplace and a hot tub that filled Brennan's heart with longing.

"Perfect," she whispered, and Booth pressed a quick kiss on top of her head before carrying their luggage into the bedroom.

Opening the big patio door, Brennan stepped onto the veranda. Underneath her a curvy path disappeared between in the age-old trees, and above her a bird's cry cut into the silence.

"Almost heaven," she murmured, remembering an old song, and then she found another kind of heaven, as Booth approached her from behind, wrapping his strong arms around her waist.

"I'm glad we're here," he whispered, almost as if speaking loudly would violate the quiet might of the scenery.

"Yes," she simply said, and her head fell back onto his shoulder in a gesture full of infinite trust.

Nudging her with his nose, he rolled her head around until he could kiss her soft cheek, noticing the smile on her face. Inhaling deeply, he could smell her sweet, feminine scent mingled with the nature surrounding them.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Linking his fingers underneath her belly, he supported most of its weight, and Brennan's own hand met his. Her dainty fingers caressed his knuckles, and the hair on his neck straightened up at the featherlight caress.

"Hmm... you still don't wanna move? We could take a walk. Or do you prefer the hot tub?"

"I'm a little bit stiff after the long ride. Hot water sounds appealing."

"The hot tub it is."

"But only if you join me."

"That's a given."

"The tub seems to be big enough. I'm still sad that we've outgrown our own."

"I'm positive that it will fit again in the nearest future."

"One of my foster families had a hot tub," she said after a while, but it didn't sound like a happy memory.

"A nice one?" he tried after a minute of silence.

"Actually, yes. It was a nice family as well. One of the good ones. My foster mom and Nancy, her real daughter, used to take baths together every once in a while. They always had rubber ducks and bubbles. They were so happy, Booth. I still remember their laughter. It was my first place after... after my parents had disappeared. I missed my mother so much. I never used that hot tub... I just couldn't stand the thought of having lost so much potential happiness..."

Her voice trailed off, and he could feel a shiver running through her body. One of his hands left her midsection to cup her face with his palm.

"Sh, Honey. It is over. You make me so incredibly happy, and I wanna take a bath with you."

"I will do that with Lilly as well."

"She's going to love it."

Brennan sniffled, rubbing her cheek against his palm.

"We need rubber duckies."

"Absolutely. I... I cannot remember taking a bath with my mother at all. But one time... it was around Christmas... I was in the tub with Jared. He was still a little boy, and after a while the fighting started."

Booth swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"I suppose they kind of forgot us. The water got cold. Jared was shivering. He was so little, but he knew not to cry. Not to attract _his_ attention... Eventually, I got out of the tub. Tried to lift Jared as well. He was so slippery. Sprained his wrist when I let him fall. That was the first time we didn't have to lie at the hospital. Given our history, I doubt they believed us, though."

"Oh, Booth..."

Turning around in his arms, Brennan wrapped herself around him, trying to give just as much comfort as he had given her.

"It wasn't your fault," she murmured into his autumn-scented hair.

"I know," came his voice, dark with memories. "Still, the poor kid's bandage tore my heart apart. Dad almost broke my arm afterwards."

"We will create new memories to replace the sad ones. Happy memories, Booth. I promise."

His face burrowed in the silken safety of her dark hair, he let go of a shuddered breath.

"We already do. _You_ do. You are the home I've never had, Bones. You will be the mother I've never seen."

"Booth... you know... every grade, every title I've ever achieved, every book I've ever written – you are the one thing that truly matters. You, me, Lilly – that's what's important to me."

He cleared his throat and blinked against the wetness in his eyes before he dared lifting his head. In her gaze he found raw vulnerability. He saw the motherless child who had lost the innocence to play with rubber ducks, he saw abandonment and he saw strength born out of loneliness. Those were the old things, deeply engraved into her being. However, there were new emotions as well, warmer ones. Hope and love and faith; they were shining at him so brightly. Everything he had ever felt, everything he had ever been, ever hoped for – it was reflected back at him in her deep blue eyes.

Reaching for her hand, he clasped it with his own, just to hold on to something.

"It's almost ridiculous how much we need each other."

She gave him a fragile smile.

"Scary at times, but never ridiculous. Maybe you've always been right, maybe," taking a deep breath, "fate has something to do with it. Whatever it is... we are very, very good together."

"Less damaged."

"Whole even."

Now he couldn't hold back the single tear, and at the sight of it, sobs broke free in her chest. He pulled her into his arms, and it was painful and healing at the same time. They cried for a past that was lost, trading it for a future which spoke of happy moments.

"I need you... So, so much," he whispered after a while, and she answered in an equally shaken voice.

"That's very convenient because I need you just as much right back."

A bird was circling them – the same or a new one – witnessing their evolution, and the mountain wind dried their tears.

"Let's take a bath together, Temperance," he said after a while, and she nodded in his arms, closing one chapter once and for all.

They didn't have a duck, but he folded a paper ship for them, and their childlike laughter filled the old cabin, as the makeshift ship rode the bubbles. Her body was slippery in his arms, but neither of them fell, nothing broke.

The hot water soothed and vitalized at the same time, and when the two of them snuggled up under the thick blanket of their bed an hour later, her skin felt warm, her body relaxed. Languid passion whirled low in her belly, as he kissed her, but both of them were too lazy, too drained to do something about it. After all, there was no urge, no pressure.

They were on vacation – and a whole life was lying ahead of them.

To be continued...

_Two updates in a week – how much do you love me? Also, thanks for all the knitting love._


	15. A Weekend

XV. A Weekend

A Friday doesn't really feel like a Friday when it falls on a national holiday. And it most definitely doesn't feel like a normal Friday when you wake up in a cozy old hut in the Blue Ridge Mountains, snuggled up to your sleepy warm girlfriend. Even though she still disapproved of the term, Booth pulled her closer, burrowed his face into the softness of her hair, and while his palm cupped her rounded midsection, he thanked God for everything he had.

It was Veterans Day, a memorial day that hit close to home for Booth. It was a day to remember, to honor his friends who hadn't made it home. A day to feel proud and terribly old at the same time.

Today was the first Veterans Day that was different. The burden on his shoulders wasn't that heavy, his cosmic balance sheet not that unsettled. And even though it was autumn, life felt like spring somehow.

Brennan stirred in his arms, and although he couldn't see her face, he knew the telltale fluttering of her eyelids by heart.

"Morning sleepyhead," he murmured into her neck.

"Hmm... what time is it?"

"Early."

"'Early' is not a time, Booth."

He chuckled and cast a glance at his watch lying on the bedside table.

"Half past seven."

"That's early."

"See, I told you."

She turned around in his arms, as agilely as she could, and the sun rose on his face at the sight of the serious bed head she was sporting. He loved his partner in more than one way, he truly did, but first thing in the morning she almost broke his heart a little bit. Every single time. There was something about her disheveled hair, her unguarded face... It was imperfection so ridiculously perfect that it didn't even make sense. Only he was allowed to see her like this. And that was maybe the best about it.

Smoothing her hair with his palms, he pecked her cheek.

"You're adorable."

Wrinkling her nose, she regarded him doubtfully.

"You have to think that."

"What? Why?"

"You've impregnated me, and I need both your protection and your help in raising this child. Anthropologically speaking, it is important that you find me adorable, even when I look like a swollen jellyfish."

"And here I am, thinking I was so unique and witty. Wait," he hurried to protest, "you do not look like a swollen jellyfish. Can they even swell? You look like my beautiful, gorgeous Bones."

She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, but she couldn't quite stop that smile.

"Just for the records, you are quite adorable yourself, Booth."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled into his embrace.

"You're strong, amusing, trustworthy. I like your hair all tousled. Plus, you're very brave, Booth. A good man."

He inhaled deeply, only half-surprised about her words. After all, just like she had let him in, he had let her in as well.

"Was this your Veterans Day speech?"

"Only the beginning. I have more in petto if you need it. How do you feel?"

"Scarred, but not wounded. You know, I think there hasn't been a Veterans Day when I've felt that right. It's... peaceful somehow."

"That's good. Booth, I've seen bad things. Really bad things. Trust me, you could never do really bad things."

"It always depends on the perspective."

"Of course, but from where I'm standing, it is the truth. I've told you before, and I will repeat it as often as necessary. You are good. So very good."

He squeezed her briefly, inhaling the rose shampoo and her morning warmth. Between them the baby was moving as well, and both of them could feel the tiny bump.

"Thank you, Temperance."

"Always. So... what are we going to do today?"

"That depends. How are you feeling? Are you up for a little walk?"

"I feel pretty relaxed. My back and feet don't bother me that much. Walking sounds nice, as long as I don't have to climb or run."

"Because getting you in danger is on the forefront of my mind every day, right?"

He shuddered at the mental image of his very pregnant Bones climbing up some rocky mountains.

"I recognized your use of sarcasm."

"Good, I couldn't have been less subtle."

"Contrary to your assumptions, I aim for staying healthy and safe as well, thank you very much."

"The other day I found you on a ladder."

He still got nauseous only by thinking about it.

"A _stepladder_. And I was just fixing Lilly's mobile."

"Still, it was irresponsible."

She rolled her eyes and kicked him playfully.

"Get your alpha male ass out of bed and bring me a coffee. A real one."

"You know that the doctor-"

"... has said that I may have one real coffee every now and then."

"Yeah, but you have to fight me on that one."

Changing tack, she looked at him with big puppy eyes.

"Arguing with you is bad for my blood pressure."

He gasped and poked her chest with his forefinger.

"Temperance Brennan, I cannot believe it. Now you're playing dirty. Your blood pressure is just fine. Remember the last doctor's appointment? I've been there. Still, we don't have real coffee. And now you need to be punished."

She was on the alert, but not fast enough, and soon her desperate laughter followed the ticklish movement of his fingers. She laughed until she got a hiccup, until the baby in her womb was hiccupping as well, adding to the ticklish sensation.

"Okay, stop," she finally gasped, and he captured her breathless plea with his lips.

She hiccupped into his mouth, and he had to giggle.

"So very adorable," he repeated while she tried to control her breath pattern.

"Back on square one, then?"

"Yeah, bring on the Groundhog Day."

"The holiday where a marmot 'forecasts' the weather?"

He groaned in mock frustration.

"Come on, Bones. Groundhog Day. Punxsutawney Phil. Bill Murray trapped in a time warp."

"With every word you add it sounds more and more ridiculous. Is this a movie?"

"Okay, I give up. You win."

Rolling to her side, she ogled him with a playful smirk in her eyes.

"What did I win? Coffee?" she tried.

"Nope. But I'll fix breakfast for Milady."

He released her with a soft kiss, but next to him she maneuvered herself out of bed as well.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? You were supposed to stay in bed where I could spoil you with breakfast."

"Baby. Bladder. Spoil me in the kitchen instead."

And spoiling her he did. The scent of freshly brewed decaf coffee lingered in the air, and the pancakes were delicious and sweet. Autumn was tapping on their window, and it didn't take long until the mild sun lured the happy couple outside. Booth enjoyed walking side by side with her, wearing nothing but jeans, jogging shoes and a cozy sweater, and the sight of her in equally informal clothes tugged at his heart.

She had a huge cardigan wrapped around her soft black cotton dress, and she even wore a woolen hat. He had never told her so, but Booth had a soft spot for Brennan wearing a hat – somehow it emphasized the cuteness of her nose. Her shoes were flat and reasonable enough, and, upon silent agreement, he took her purse from her and flung it over his shoulder.

Seeley Booth didn't belong to that kind of men who thought that carrying a woman's purse was unmanly. After all, you need a woman whose purse you could carry in the first place. And the woman who had just slipped her hand into his wasn't just any woman. His chest swelled with pride, as he thought about the splendidness that was his partner.

She had kicked more than one ass. Had paralyzed the poor foot guy. Had cured him as well. And she had chosen him, Booth.

"What are you thinking?" came her voice, and he knew that she wasn't asking because it was a cliché but because she really wanted to know it.

"A lot of alpha male possessive things. You choosing me, you being mine et cetera," he admitted with carefree honesty.

"That again."

She nudged him playfully with her hip, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"When will you finally get over the fact that I love you just as much as you love me?"

"Took me almost seven years to get you, Baby. Give me at least seven months to get used to the bliss."

"Great. I cannot wait for the old Booth to return."

Even though her voice possessed a playful tone, Booth was hit by a trace of insecurity.

"Bones... am I different? Have I changed in a way you don't like?"

She pondered his question for a brief moment.

"Our whole life is changing, making it a necessity for you to change as well. But, no, you're not really different. Just... extended somehow. Knowing this side of you? It feels like, finally, getting the whole picture. All those years you've told me about love. Now you're proving it to me. Does that make any sense?"

He pulled her close and pressed a lingering kiss full of gratitude to her temple.

"Absolutely. Thanks, Bones."

"You don't have to thank me for the truth. I won't ask if I have changed, I mean, look at me."

Letting go of a laugh, she pointed at her swollen belly. He stayed silent for a while.

"Bones, I never wanted you to change, but saying that you haven't would be a lie. You're still the same infuriating, stubborn and beautiful woman I've fallen in love with. Brilliant and awkward at the same time. I've always known that there was a soft side hidden underneath your strong, yeah, shield. You have changed, but not that much. You've just let me in."

The crispy autumn leaves rustled underneath their feet, as she thought about his words. Finally, she nodded and turned her head to him.

"It feels good... having you inside."

"It feels good to be inside of you."

"Was there a hidden sexual meaning?" she asked, a smirk on her face.

"Oh, I don't know, was it hidden?" he deadpanned, and her sunny laughter pearled into the air.

Unnoticed by them, the sun had vanished behind thick, gray clouds, and both of them startled at the first sound of rolling thunder. Looking heavenwards, they were surprised by a strong wind gust hitting their faces. The air smelled like angry rain.

"Oh no, not good," he murmured, and then the first thick raindrops hit his face.

"I love thunderstorms," she threw in, but he shook his head.

"Strolling in the woods during a thunderstorm is not my idea of keeping you safe."

"I'm pregnant, not made out of sugar, Booth."

"Indulge me, Temperance. You think we can hurry a bit?"

"A bit should be okay."

Of course they didn't make it in time, and when they were back at their cabin, the sky had already unleashed its force, leaving the two partners soaking wet. She couldn't stop laughing, though, because his grumpy face was just too funny. Mumbling incoherently, Booth busied himself with their fireplace, refusing her offer to help him with insulted pride – "Former Ranger, Baby, remember?" – and fifteen minutes later a cozy fire was warming the place.

Outside, thunder and lightning were cracking in the air, accompanied by the heavy sound of falling rain on their rooftop, but inside Booth and Brennan had both changed into comfortable, dry clothes. Mugs with hot chocolate were warming their hands, their contents warming their stomachs as well, and only the damp hair betrayed their encounter with the stormy weather.

The firelight gave her cheeks a rosy glow – or maybe it had been the exertion – and she leaned back on the blanket which he had spread out in front of the fireplace. The flames were flickering, casting dancing shadows on her rounded belly, and the air was filled with the scent of burning wood and the sweetness of chocolate.

Booth felt nothing but contentment, and he outstretched himself beside her, his thumb rubbing circles over her belly, so round, so firm. Shifting slightly until he could rest his head on her shoulder, Booth reveled in her presence, and Brennan's arm came around his back to hold him close to her.

She could smell his wet hair – autumn rain and him – could hear his even breaths so close to her ear. Everything about him was so utterly familiar and dear that something inside of her clenched briefly. His hand on her belly completed the picture of utmost safety, and she turned her head to shower him with little kisses.

"I love you," she murmured into his hair, and she could feel his happiness.

"I love you, too. So much..."

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"We're on vacation."

"I know. Isn't that great?"

"Totally."

He opened his arms for her, hugging her instead of being hugged, and she only fought him briefly before she snuggled up to his solid chest. The combined warmth of him, the fire and the hot chocolate had made her drowsy, and before she could blink again, the thick blanket of sleep covered her.

Sensing by her breath pattern that she was knocked out, Booth held her close to his chest, rubbing the small of her back to relieve some of the tension. Being with her like this... it felt good, so very good, and before he knew what was happening, his eyes fell shut as well, and he followed her into the land of dreams.

They missed most of the thunderstorm, their little fire guarding their nap, and when they finally stirred, his arm was numb from the weight of her head. He didn't really mind, though, and lifted his other hand to caress the softness of her cheek. Her long lashes cast dusky shadows on her face, tickling his fingers when her eyelids fluttered. A smile bloomed on his face, and then he was rewarded by that first look out of unfocused blue eyes, the one he loved so much.

"Good afternoon, Baby."

"Hi," she breathed, leaning her face into his palm, and then his mouth was on hers, kissing, nibbling, reconnecting.

Her lips parted for him on their own volition, and the rough but velvety length of his tongue swept over hers. His hands in her hair, Booth kissed her slowly and thoroughly, creating a lasting kind of warmth inside of her. Beyond the familiarity, he could still taste a trace of chocolate in her mouth, and her lips looked pink and soft in the light of their fire.

Finally letting go of her mouth, his lips traveled down her neck to her cleavage, trailing the exposed skin right above her shirt with his tongue. Brennan sighed in delight, and, her hands tunneled in his dark hair, she held him in place. She could already feel the beginning response of her body, anticipation building, and shook her head mentally. Seven months of sleeping together, and still he could arouse her as easily as during their very first time – if not more.

She almost wanted to blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but even though she had no reference value, Brennan just knew that there was more to this than mere brain chemistry. Booth knew her; he understood her on a level nobody had ever done before. And his way of touching her, of making love to her... it was just another way of him knowing her.

Lost in thoughts and feelings, Brennan surrendered herself to his talented hands and mouth. She looked stunning, so stunning in the warm light of the fire, and Booth felt a strange ache in his chest. She was so incredibly beautiful, her hair, her face, her body, plain everything about her, but what touched him the most was her simple display of trust, as she went pliant under his caresses – her back arched, her eyes closed in pleasure.

He undressed her slowly, revealing creamy skin which looked almost golden in the dim light. The freckles on her fair arms looked like little spots of cinnamon, and he lowered his lips to them as if he could find the spicy taste as well. He couldn't, of course, but what he found was even better, and he licked his way up to her full breasts, tasting nothing but pure and heavenly Bones skin.

Her own sigh mingled with his, as he took one dusky nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the taut bud while sucking gently. A few drops of almost tasteless moisture hit his tongue, and he could hear her surprised gasp right before she tugged at his head.

"No, sorry Booth."

Licking his lips, he shook his head and cupped her breasts with his palms.

"It should be weird, but I find that I don't mind. Nothing about you could ever be disgusting, Bones, most certainly not the milk your breasts produce for our baby. I don't want to drink it, but I refuse to avoid your breasts for the next months. I like them too much."

He emphasized his words with a gentle squeeze, and she gasped again.

"You used to be very sensitive about breastfeeding."

"When did I say that?"

Another caressed was followed by a tiny moan.

"When we took care of little Andy."

"Well... I hadn't met your breasts back then."

"That's reasonable, I guess."

Her head fell back onto the blanket, and Booths shifted slightly until he was in a comfortable position to kiss her belly. '_I_ have done this,' he thought, as he caressed the stretched but flawless skin that covered Brennan's swollen midsection.

"Hi Lilly," he murmured, whispering soft kisses around Brennan's navel, and he could feel her hand stroking his face.

Resuming his task of undressing her, Booth tugged at her low-cut yoga pants, and, eager to help him, she lifted her hips until he could pull them down her legs. Now she was lying in nothing but her creamy white lace panties in front of him, while he was still fully dressed.

Tugging at his shirt, Brennan protested.

"You're wearing too many clothes."

She watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, while he removed garment after garment, and briefly the image of a sculptor carving the perfect form out of a block of marble crossed her mind. Seeley Booth was the most beautiful and well-defined man she had ever laid eyes on – dead or alive – and a rush of wetness hit her core, as she took him all in. Strength and softness... somehow it wasn't a contradiction when it came to him.

Her gaze followed the muscular curve of his arm, roamed over his broad chest before it fell down to the dark line of wiry hair that led to his already hard arousal. And strength and softness... she found it again.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered, and he blushed at her words; didn't protest, though, because he couldn't refuse her simple candor.

"So are you," he answered equally seriously, and then, very gently, he nudged her knees apart and settled between her opened legs.

He could see her desire, could smell it as well, and when he lowered his head to the damp material of her panties, he gained himself a moment to breathe in this unique scent of her. She squirmed under his adoration, and, not interested in teasing her, Booth closed his lips around lace and wetness and her, sucking hard without warning. Brennan cried out, her hands flying to his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin.

She murmured something about love and hormones that made no sense at all, and Booth smiled against her before he rubbed his lips over her full length. The friction of the lace only heightened the stimulation, and he surprised her with pushing his lace-covered tongue into her opening. It was wicked and sensual... and almost too much to bear for both of them.

With a primeval groan, Booth cupped the back of her thigh to spread her even further while using his other hand to push the crotch of her panties aside. And then he licked her in earnest. With no barrier between them, he could feel her heat on his tongue, could taste her spicy, female scent. He kissed her with no rhythm, no plan, driven by pure desire, alternating between sucking at her clit and plunging his tongue deep into her before lapping her up.

Her breaths came fast and uncontrollably, much like his own, and he buried his face between her legs without shame; and without shame her hands tangled in his hair to pull him into her even deeper. Her dampness was driving him crazy, and his cock twitched in anticipation.

He wanted to talk to her, wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how sexy she was, wanted to ask her to come for him. Unable to find the strength to lift his mouth from her, he was reduced to actions, though, and when he sucked at her particularly hard, when he entered her with two fingers at the same time, he could finally feel how she trembled over the edge. Her muscles pulsated around him and under him, followed by her silent cry.

Brennan was still blinded by the stars dancing behind her eyelids, when she sensed how she was lifted. Her panties were removed and something soft was placed under her ass, maybe a pillow, and then he was back between her thighs. She whimpered in weak satisfaction, as his thickness slid into her, filling and stretching her so exquisitely, and when she finally opened her eyes, she found him kneeing between her opened legs, thrusting into her.

His dark gaze was on her face, a fine layer of sweat covering his forehead, and she wanted to kiss and hug him so badly. Unfortunately, her belly made it impossible, and she settled for watching him. Her ankles crossed behind his back, she urged him to go faster and harder and deeper, and while her own orgasm had just ebbed away, she could feel his building.

The scent of sex was lingering in the air, and then she gasped in surprise, as he hit that spot deep inside of her which was aching for him the most.

"You wanna come with me again?" he asked between groans, and she couldn't really answer him because her body was overwhelmed by sweet waves of something.

Remembering her hands, she brought them between their joined bodies, cupping his heavy balls while rubbing herself with the other one. She could hear his sharp intake of breath, could feel her swollen clit underneath her fingers, and for a moment Booth seemed to lose his rhythm. Then it was back, and he was driving into her somehow out of control. His hand joined her own, pleasuring her, while his firm length moved in and out of her with the perfect friction.

"Yes," she finally said, remembering his question and everything else, and his scream mingled with the sound of rain, as he emptied himself into her.

His pulsating heat in her core was enough to make her fall again, and ecstasy rippled through her body, as her cry followed his.

He fell down somehow, and, using his last ounce of strength, Booth crawled beside her to pull her into his arms. She sought his mouth greedily, and finally their lips met just like their bodies had.

It was a perfect day.

They had two more days; two more days of crispy autumn woods, two more days of fireplace love and solitude. Both of them knew that this would be their first and last vacation alone for quite a while, but it didn't really sadden them.

It was like he had told her so many years ago. The best thing about vacations is pretending not to come back to your real life. They didn't really need that kind of denial anymore because... real life?

It already was a wonderful world full of possibilities and fulfilled dreams.

It already was everything.

To be continued...

_So, reading my stories you know that I'm not the rambling kind of author, but it is Friday night, I'm on holidays, and with a glass of exquisite red wine next to me, I feel like writing an author's note._

_I wanna thank all of you for following this story, for having it on alert, for reviewing. It always amazes me how many of you are out there, and even though I don't write to pleasure you – I'm selfish, I do it just for myself – be sure that I appreciate your kind words and involvement so much. This story has been hard to write at times, and I don't know if I could have made it thus far without you. _

_Amanda (ark030288) – you have cleared my head somehow. Thank you so much for your kind and profound messages. _

_berniej, Alicia9876, Maureen, vacruz2, DaLiza, dharmamonkey, jsboneslover, leggate, BlueMoonFan, eitoph, Hailey Quinn, RositaLG, AnnFleur, tropicalgirlie... and so many more (sorry for not mentioning every one of you) – your kind words always make me smile._

_Robert Modean – sometimes it makes me blush that a man reads my smut, especially one whose work I like a lot. Thanks for being there._

_To sum it up, you are all awesome. Sometimes it astonishes me how you pick out so smartly that one line which was truly important to me. _

_I guess now I'm a rambling author after all. Forgive me, I'm on holidays ;-)_


	16. A Bridge

_Happy Sunday!_

XVI. A Bridge

When they came back from their trip, D.C. had finally acknowledged that it was time to prepare itself for winter, and wet leaves braved the rainy wind until, with a sigh, they let go of their branches and fell to the pavement as a sad reminder of summertime. Brennan's belly grew along with their daughter, and November turned into December, as Booth and Brennan disagreed about work, prenatal classes and religion. Their weekend away had been a lovely break, a time-out, and no matter how wonderful their life was, suddenly it seemed as if there was a lot to argue about.

That crime scene she had worked for example. Granted, it had been an unfortunate coincidence that the killer had still been hidden in the secluded warehouse. Granted, it hadn't been her fault, that he had approached her with a knife. Age-old instincts had kicked in, and it had been nothing but self-defense – Booth knew it and he was so very grateful for her martial art skills. It hadn't stopped his heart from breaking. It had barely stopped him from killing the man who was winding in pain on the floor. It hadn't stopped his mind from going dark, as she had cried out in sudden pain while holding her belly.

Later, much later when the doctor had reassured them that no damage had happened, just an a distension of muscles and tissue, nothing a few days of bed rest couldn't heal, Booth's worry had turned into irrational anger. Anger at himself for not having been fast enough, anger at the man who had threatened her with that knife, anger at Brennan for thinking that she was some kind of Wonder Woman.

And she had been angry herself.

"What should I have done, Booth? Letting him kill me or our child? Waiting for you to rescue us?"

He hadn't been able to give her the right answer because there simply hadn't been a right one. Torn between fury and tenderness, he had paced the room while she had watched him calmly from her position on the couch. Lilly had been moving, and even though it had hurt a bit, Brennan had been grateful for the sign that their daughter was fine.

Finally, exhaustion had kicked in, and he had collapsed next to the couch on the floor. His face buried in her lap, he had shed a few tears, and she had stroked his hair, accepting his fear, his vulnerability.

The mood was clouded, though, and it was only a few days later that the subject they had avoided so carefully didn't want to be ignored anymore. The bone of contention was an invitation to Michael Staccato Vincent Hodgins' baptism. Granted, not an extraordinary baptism but a ceremony to honor free spirits and the love of God. Bizarre like most of the things Angela and Hodgins came up with. However, the question of religion couldn't be ignored anymore.

But... after years of disagreeing – what could they possible say that hadn't already been said?

"I refuse to lie at my daughter, Booth. I'm okay with the Santa thing, but that is as far as I will go."

"I'm not asking you to lie at her, I just want to give her faith. To make her believe that she is one of God's children."

Brennan cringed inwardly.

"But she is _our_ child, Booth _ours_. We've had sex, your sperm found my egg, cells started to divide."

"She has a _soul_, Bones," he hissed, and she folded her arms around her belly.

"I don't believe in God."

"Damn it, Temperance, can't you just accept that there might be something that exists even though you don't believe in it?"

"I've never seen proof of it."

"Well, maybe you haven't seen everything, yet. A few years ago you haven't believed in love."

That was mean, and they both knew it.

"Maybe you're just stupid."

"Yes, I am stupid, you've figured that out a long time ago, my dear. Stupid for believing in love and God and justice... and you."

Her cheeks went pale.

"You, you... _fuck you_, Booth."

The breath whooshed out of his lungs at her uncharacteristic curse, and he ruffled his hair in desperation.

"You know what? I need to clear my head. I'll walk for a while."

Before she could say anything, he had grabbed his keys and was out of the door. She was mad, so mad and terribly confused. She hated it when he ran out on her, but she hadn't yet recovered when the door opened again, and back he was. Closing the distance to her in three longs strides, he pulled her roughly into his arms and pressed a hard kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, I'm not leaving you, I will be back. Just need to think."

A faint smile tugged at her lips, as she watched him leaving again. Even though he was hurt himself, he never forgot her deepest fears, never forgot the promise he had given her so long ago – not to abandon her as well.

While he roamed the streets aimlessly, Brennan opened her laptop. Accepting her boundaries, she needed to do some research on the topic. By the time she had found an enlightening discussion forum, Booth had somehow landed in front of his church. He prayed, she typed. Time went by. Rain started and stopped again. The sun made its way on the firmament.

Her eyes were sore, as she closed her laptop again, as she heard his keys in the lock.

"Bones," he started while approaching her. While she had been able to rearrange her own thoughts, he still seemed lost somehow, and her heart hurt for him.

"I cannot compromise on this. I don't know how. Everything I've seen in my life, all the bad stuff – it has turned me into a believer while you have found your own safe haven in science. I can accept that, but I _need_ to believe, and I want the same reassurance for our child. I don't know how to build that bridge to you this time."

Standing up, she walked in his direction until only a few inches of disagreement separated them. Taking his hand, she said,

"Well, I do. You've made a valuable point, Booth. Just because I haven't seen it, yet... it doesn't mean necessarily that it doesn't exist. I still don't believe in it, but I... I respect your position. I won't lie to Lilly – or Parker. Whenever they ask me if there's a God, I won't confirm or deny it. I will send them to you. Whenever they ask me if I believe in it, I will say no. Whenever they ask me if you do, the answer would be yes. I'm fine with," she swallowed hard because even though she had made up her mind, it still cost her, "a baptism."

He closed his eyes in relief and squeezed her hand so hard that it almost hurt.

"I had an interesting discussion with someone called Sunflower739. I came to the conclusion that, as long as you believe in it, it means something, but as long as I don't believe in it, it is just water which doesn't do any harm. If you can live with that, I can do it as well."

Time stood still for some more heartbeats, but then he enveloped her in his arms as if she was incredibly precious.

"Thank you," he whispered, and his gratitude washed over her, erased the ugly words from earlier today.

"So, I've built a bridge?"

"Yes, you have."

He could feel her pride, felt it as well. He was still raw inside; he simply hated arguing with her, but the way she had learned to reach out to him never failed to amaze him. She had grown... so much.

A weekend far away in the autumn woods, dances in dusky blues clubs, walks in the park – it was beautiful, it was perfect, it was them. But this... building a life despite the pain, despite their differences – somehow it was even better. It was work, it hurt at times, but after every storm their bond was even stronger, their ground even more solid.

That night he held her close to his chest, and, unable to sleep, he whispered to their daughter, told the unborn baby about its mother, about their love, about everything and nothing.

They were still careful with each other. Even though Brennan had never been in a relationship like this before, she assumed that it was only natural after a painful fight, and it didn't make her doubt his love for her or her love for him.

Her very own ability to compartmentalize came in handy because she was able to accept a healing wound without assuming that the entirety had been damaged as well.

It was another unfortunate coincidence that, just when they were still walking on eggshells around each other, the one thing happened that she had feared the most. A new case had popped up, a brutal double homicide, and while her team was working on the evidence, Booth was partnered with another agent for the case.

Even though he didn't like it, it was convenient, and the young brunette agent was still a greenhorn but intelligent enough to make her a valuable asset. Booth had assumed that Brennan wouldn't approve of it, but even she hadn't been prepared for her reaction, as he entered the lab with his new temporary partner in tow.

"Hey, squints, Bones," he clapped his hands to get their attention, "this is June Meyers, we're working this case together."

The young agent nodded eagerly, her gaze zooming in on Brennan with, yeah, what was it? Curiosity? Estimation?

Removing her latex gloves, Brennan stretched her back and rounded the table, taking in the woman next to her partner. Shimmering dark hair, blue eyes, a fresh face, tall and slender. With a rush she had never felt before, Brennan instantly disliked her.

Clark was already reciting what they had been able to find out so far, and, oblivious to Booth, the two women appraised each other. While the facts were exchanged, Brennan walked down the steps of the platform, reaching out her hand to the female agent.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan."

The young woman shook her hand with vigor.

"I figured so. I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Brennan. You're quite a legend."

Brennan shrugged.

"I think so. You're working with Booth?"

"Only this case, but, who knows," she laughed. "Maybe we're compatible."

From her position on the platform, Cam could see how her anthropologist's eyes darkened, and even though she couldn't hear the words, Brennan's hostility was almost palpable.

'Oh oh,' Cam thought.

Booth was still his cheery self, rubbing his hands after Clark had finished.

"Great. We'll focus on the uncle, then. Come on, June."

And then he did the unforgivable, as his hand tugged at June Meyers' arm to guide her to the exit. Brennan sucked in a breath, immediately turning around on her heels, sashaying in the direction of her office.

"Oh, Bones?"

Booth stopped, remembering something, but Brennan was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she?"

"Had to go," Cam threw in drily.

"Can you tell her that I won't make it in time for lunch?"

"Oh, no, Seeley, you'll tell her yourself."

She knew him longer than her, but Cam knew without a doubt that she was on Brennan's side this time. Booth's eyebrow arched up, but he didn't question her further.

"Okay, I'll do so. See you later Cam."

Cam watched the two agents leaving and took a deep breath before she followed Brennan into her office. She knocked tentatively and found her coworker on the couch, a pillow over her face.

"Brennan?"

"Is it just me or was that mean?" came her muffled voice, and Cam took a seat on the armrest.

"It's just one case, and I'm sure that it hasn't been Booth's idea. But, yeah, it is mean. She looks a lot like you."

"She said, 'Maybe we're compatible,' Cam. Booth is compatible with almost everyone. I am not. He is _my_ partner."

"She won't be able to challenge him. Trust me, Dr. Brennan, I've known him for a long time. I have seen his women passing by. Hell, I've been one of them. Nobody could ever be what he needed. Until you came along."

"What if she takes him away from me?"

Brennan's voice was a whisper, and Cam reached out her hand in pity to pat the other woman's leg.

"We can always kill her and make it look like a suicide."

The pillow was removed, revealing a doubtful face.

"You're just saying that so I feel better."

Cam laughed out and shrugged.

"Well, maybe. But, look, even if that month girl tries to steal him away from you-"

"June," Brennan spat out.

Came waved it off.

"June, July, whatever. Even if she tries, she will never succeed. First, Booth is so focussed on you that he won't even recognize potential advances. Second, you're smarter and more beautiful. Third, you have the ace."

"The ace?"

Cam pointed at Brennan's belly.

"You're carrying his child. He would never leave you."

"I don't want him to stay just for the baby."

Cam rolled her eyes.

"Now you're stupid. Seeley loves you. Has loved you for so long. He loves you as a partner _and_ as a woman. He's just polite to May."

Finally, Brennan couldn't suppress a giggle.

"I like how disrespectful you talk about her."

"I'm good at that. It comes naturally."

"Thanks Cam. You were very helpful."

Another smile, and Came got up, remembering something.

"Oh, Booth might not make it for lunch. But don't worry about it."

And gone she was, leaving Brennan behind with a new frown on her face. As opposed to her usual habit, she did worry. He called around noon, canceling their lunch-date, but his message went to voicemail. He was involved in a shooting that afternoon, but called her immediately to confirm that he was fine, and her racing heart felt as if it was pumping pure ice through her veins. She couldn't forget his hand tugging at June's arm, something he had done so often with her, Brennan. It had been a subconscious gesture, but somehow she had always assumed that it was solely for her.

Assume... it makes an Ass out of U and Me...

It was already dark outside, when she was finally able to accept that she was jealous. Plain jealous. Acknowledging it didn't make it better, though, and Brennan busied herself in limbo. Sorting old bones, giving them a name – it was something she could so, it felt reassuring. Things were sterile, white, clean, in order.

She wrote an outline for a new novel afterwards; she hadn't really planned on writing another one in the near future, but dealing with Kathy and Andy was something that distracted her from Brennan and Booth. The lab had already been quiet and deserted for quite a while, when she heard the inevitable footsteps. Without looking up, she knew that it was him.

"Hey Baby," came his soft voice, and then he was behind her desk, his hands on her shoulders... and somehow she felt better.

"Everything alright?"

"Two suspects in custody. Nobody wounded on our side. June drives me crazy," he added on a sigh.

Booth could feel her stiffen underneath his hands.

"She seemed..."

Her careful voice trailed off.

"I think you've ruined me for every other partner. I'm not willing to settle for someone less smart than you anymore which is quite a problem considering that you are the smartest."

"She's quite attractive."

"You think so?"

She could hear genuine surprise in his voice and nodded slowly.

"Hmm... I haven't really looked at her. I guess you have ruined me for every other woman as well. Which is kind of alright since I plan on keeping you for the rest of my life."

Her head fell onto her desk, and she felt lightheaded somehow.

"I'm jealous," she finally admitted, not because she had to but because it was simply fair.

He laughed out behind her.

"Why?"

"She looks like me. You work with her. You've touched her arm."

He wrapped himself around her from behind, still chuckling. She could smell the lingering scent of gunpowder and him.

"Oh, Bones... my Temperance... Believe me, _nobody_ looks like you. Next to you, everybody else could never be more than second best."

"Cam offered to kill her."

"Well, that was very nice of Cam. I still hope you refused it."

"I am stupid."

He placed a kiss on her neck.

"Happens to the best of us. Will you finally come home with me? You know, I'm kind of cranky when my girls aren't around."

"Being in love is so exhausting at times," she exclaimed, and if she hadn't been so very pregnant, he would have scooped her up in his arms. So he settled for pulling her to her feet and hugging her.

"It has its benefits," he murmured into her ear while rubbing his evening stubble against her smooth cheek.

-BONES-

He brought her home, fed her, ran a bath for her. She was so tired and sore that she didn't fight him, and his care lulled her until she was soft and relaxed from the inside out. They went to bed early, and he made love to her, slowly and carefully. It wasn't about lust or achieving orgasm; it was merely about proving each other their connection, the perfect rightness only they could create.

His love was so strong that she could feel it.

He was a bank, and she was a bank, and between them there was the river called life. But over the troubled water, there were countless bridges – some he had created, some she had created. Some were made out of words, some out of actions, others out of hope and faith.

There was no point where they couldn't reach each other.

It was simply not meant to be.

To be continued...


	17. A Song

_A few of you were worried about the last line. Well, lovely readers, do you know me? Have I ever inflicted superfluous drama on them? Have I ever ended a chapter with a cliffhanger? Those lines must be read together. Double negation. "There was no point where they couldn't reach each other. It was simply not meant to be." See? All's fine._

XVII. A Song

"Do we really have to do that?"

Brennan ogled the flyer in her hand suspiciously, while Booth wrapped his arms around her eight months belly. Thirty-five weeks. Three and a half pounds of Lilly. Sixteen inches.

"It's about time, Honey."

"It doesn't look like fun."

"But it's necessary. You'll learn how to breathe. I'll learn how to help you. We're already late as it is."

Her brow furrowed, as she looked down on his folded hands on her enormous belly.

"You just wanna show off with me. Booth, I'll feel like a fool. I've done prenatal yoga, and it was awful. Don't make me do it."

"Your doctor has said we should take a prenatal class. They can teach us important stuff, and, besides, it's nice for us as a couple. See," he pointed at one paragraph in the brochure, "they say it gives the father a better feeling about the miracle of birth."

She was right, he had to admit, he wanted to boast. He wanted to sit behind Temperance Brennan while holding her belly, showing everyone that _his_ woman was the best. Over the past weeks he had suggested almost every pregnancy-related class for couples, but she had dismissed them all. This time he wouldn't let her win. He wanted to do breathing exercises, he wanted to roll with her on the floor, he wanted to do it all.

His hands wandered lower, abandoning the swelling of her midsection and rubbing her thighs.

"Please, Baby," he whispered close to her ear, and she shivered.

Her head fell back to his shoulder, while he played with the fabric of her maternity dress.

"You're manipulating me," she complained weakly.

"Does it work?" he breathed, nibbling her earlobe.

"Crap, yes," she finally mumbled, and he squeezed her in delight.

"I'll attend this prenatal class with you, but, Booth, if it gets too stupid, I'll leave."

"Sounds fair," he agreed, and finally, she turned around in his arms.

"Okay, let's subscribe."

"Uh, Baby, I already did that."

Her face got that frown of disapproval, and he hurried to resume his caresses.

"It's tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" she asked incredulously, but then her aversion turned into a soft moan, as he rained tender kisses over the valley of her throat.

"Hm-hmm," he murmured carefully, and she sighed.

"You've gotten dangerously good at manipulating me."

"I had to. We were running out of time," he answered drily while his hands wandered from the small of her back to her buttocks.

"I've gained almost two pounds this week..."

"You'll gain even more. Lilly is fully developed. Now it's all about fattening her up."

"I don't really like that term," she answered distractedly while his fingers found the zipper of her dress.

"Our baby will be chubby and cute, Bones."

"And I will be fat. Booth... do you still think that I'm sexy?"

Removing his lips from her neck, he looked at her with big eyes.

"Seriously? You're doubting that?"

Gnawing her lower lip, she shrugged adorably.

"I've never been this huge. I cannot see my feet anymore. My breasts are so big."

Biting his lips, Booth tried his best not to laugh. Leave it to Brennan to worry about breasts being too big. Tapping her chin, he forced her to look into his eyes.

"You are beautiful, hot, wonderful, pretty, mind-blowing. And I was just trying to seduce you because you are so damn sexy in this dress."

"This dress looks like a tent. And I thought you were merely distracting me from the topic of prenatal classes."

"Well, that too. But, hey, Bones. You are perfect."

Making his point, he simply took her hand and pressed it into the hard bulge in his pants. She gasped in surprise.

"See?" His voice had gotten dark and husky. "This is just how sexy I think you are."

"I miss feeling you without the belly between us. Does this already make me a bad mother?"

He shook his head, releasing her hand.

"Not at all. It just makes you a woman."

She flung her arms around his neck.

"How come you always know the right thing to say?"

"Because I love you. It's that simple."

"Show it to me," she whispered into his neck. "Make me feel sexy."

His lips found her earlobe anew.

"That's easy."

It was Friday, and outside the first December snowflakes were falling in the darkness, as one man lead his woman to their bedroom. She undressed herself and watched him doing the same. The snow outside reflected the city's night lights, and Booth took her hand and tugged her in front of their full length mirror.

Without shoes, she was smaller than him, and even despite her heavy hips, despite her pregnant body, she was still elegant and so lovely. Stepping behind her, Booth let his palms slide over her full breasts, her rounded belly, her smooth thighs and up again. He found her eyes in the mirror, pale and bright. Tilting his head, he rubbed his cheek over her satiny hair.

"Look how beautiful you are," he whispered in awe, and in the glow of his adoration, Brennan could see it as well.

A smile played around her lips, reaching her eyes, and she leaned back against his chest, trusting him to support her, like always.

"Thank you, Honey," she answered, and his arms around her tightened.

Despite all the terms of endearment he had for her, it was scarce that she used a pet name for him, but every time she did it, it hit him with unexpected tenderness.

He turned her around until he could kiss her, and with eyes open he could admire her bare back in the reflection of the mirror, the contrast of dark hair on milky-white shoulders, the curves of her perfect ass. He reached around her, and his darker hands on her were so arousing that he had to moan. Breaking their kiss, Brennan turned her head to see what he could see, and the image of their naked bodies in such an intimate embrace hit her insides with a rush of heat.

When she looked at him again, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark with excitement.

"I guess this is sexy," she whispered while pushing him backwards.

He struggled, just because, grabbing her wrists to fight her, and when they fell onto the mattress rather ungracefully, both of them were laughing.

Laughing... they did that a lot because even though they were meant for each other, even though their sex was so much more than sex – it was still fun. They had cried with each other, had fought for each other, and it was more than fair that the fun part was, well, so much fun.

Soon, very soon their chuckles subsided, turned into breathless moans, and the snowflakes outside their window were dancing, as Booth and Brennan found their rhythm, as they came together in the oldest dance ever.

He whispered to her, mentioned every part of her, everything she did that was sexy, and she reveled in it, feeling female and desired. Their gazes were locked, as their worlds splintered, baby blue falling into chocolate brown, and everything around them vanished until nothing but her smile remained; nothing but the raw devotion in his eyes.

They fell asleep with him curled around her, and she dreamed about the moon talking to an old man with a pipe. He didn't dream anything at all.

-BONES-

"I did not see that coming," he gasped and clutched her hand while they stumbled down the stairs.

"I cannot understand your surprise. After all, you already are a father," she said, but even her cheeks were pale.

"Back then I arrived just in time to hold my new-born son. Rebecca was lying in that bed, and Parker was already nice and clean."

"You did know how babies are born, didn't you?"

"Of course, but, but..."

His voice trailed off, as he tried to erase the memory of the video they had just seen.

"Oh, Bones, I'm so sorry that I did this to you. It will hurt _so_ much."

She stopped suddenly, forcing him to stop as well.

"Thanks for mentioning the pain. I thought squeezing something as big as a football out of me would be a pleasant pastime."

"This is not the right moment for sarcasm."

She had to laugh at his obvious shock and lifted her hand to caress his weekend cheek.

"I guess it is a little bit too late to worry about that."

"What about a C-section?"

"Have you ever seen a video of a C-section? You know, they just do a small cut and rip the skin apart because it heals faster than-"

"Lalala."

His hands on his ears, he tried not to listen to her, and now she had to laugh in earnest about his ridiculous behavior.

Their prenatal class had started as expected. She had disliked it instantly; he had loved it. Able to feel his pride and joy, Brennan had indulged him, had breathed with him, had let him rock her, rub her back and so on.

Along with them there had been five couples, but the other women had been a few weeks behind Brennan in their pregnancies.

"I've told you we're late," he had hissed into her ear, and she had rolled her eyes while the midwife had "involved" the couples.

"I'm Seeley Booth, her name is Temperance, and this is our first child together."

His voice had interrupted her musings, and she had simply nodded, as Booth had introduced them.

"A girl, Lilly," he had answered the next question, and several "awwws" could be heard.

His hand had rubbed her belly in possessive satisfaction.

"Yes, we are quite excited. Aren't we, Honey?"

She had glared at him but had tried her best sugary smile.

"Absolutely, _Sweetie_."

Then everything had been about panting against the pain, and while the women had rolled on their backs, Brennan hadn't been able to stop thinking about fallen maybugs. The fact that she had been one of them had made it less funny, though.

'I love him. I love him,' had been like a mantra in her head, and she had tried very hard to pay attention. Booth had almost been cute, eager to get everything right, but Brennan doubted that he would really be able to help her.

Well, it had been as expected. Until the midwife had started that video. They had only made it halfway through the birth scenes before the urge to flee had been overwhelming, but fortunately they had been on the same page...

"Do you think we've passed the class?"

"Uh... I don't think this is a class where you can fail. Oh, Baby, I'm so not prepared for the birth. I'm sorry for dragging you into this. You must feel terribly."

He pulled her into his arms almost desperately.

"Well, contrary to you, as it seems, I've been prepared for the fact that Lilly will have to leave my body at some point. And the number of exits is limited."

"How will I ever be able to help you with that?"

"You will be there. Drive me crazy as always. We will bicker. Maybe I can forget the pain about it. Booth... you aren't allowed to look between my legs, is that clear?"

He shuddered at the image.

"Crystal clear. No photos and videos either. Do you," he swallowed hard, "do you think we will ever be able to forget that? Will ever be able to have sex again?"

"Ah," she shrugged, "it doesn't really matter. My intention was to have your baby. This whole relationship thing was just a cover to get what I wanted."

He looked at her bemused face with dark and serious eyes.

"Not. Funny."

"On the contrary, I think this is very amusing," she chuckled.

"Okay," he ruffled his hair. "I might be overreacting."

"Might?"

"Give me some time to adjust. Maybe we could go to the movies? Watch something else? I need new images."

"Sounds lovely."

Grabbing his arm, she cast a glance at his watch.

"We might still make it in time for the afternoon screening."

"Okay. Do you want to drive?"

She arched her eyebrow at him. 'You don't have to make up for anything,' was already on her tongue, but then she recollected herself and grabbed the offered keys.

"Sure."

-BONES-

He didn't touch her that night... or the next. But, eventually, Booth got over the shock. Brennan was half-sad and half-relived. Relieved because her sex life was revived, sad because her driving time was over. In the end, sex won easily, though.

It was in the second week of December when they bought a car safety seat for Lilly, and the sight of the baby seat in his dark SUV touched her deeply. Something that had always belonged to them had met something that, very soon, would be part of their lives. It was just a baby seat, but somehow it was their past, their present meeting their future.

They had bought a second one for her car as well because Brennan simply refused to accept the fact that he would do all the driving.

There were rompers, tiny socks, little baby caps as well. Sitting in her rocking chair one winter's night, Brennan placed her favorite pair of socks, the pink ones Booth had knitted with her father, on her belly. They were so weeny, so delicate. The breath whooshed out of her lungs, as Lilly kicked her unexpectedly hard, and one of the socks fell down because of the movement. Brennan rubbed her belly, finding a little foot or a little hand.

Five more weeks... Five more weeks from now she would be a mother, and he would be a father. While she had no problem picturing Booth as a father – after all, she had seen him with Parker – the fact that she would be a mother still felt weird somehow.

Her body was preparing itself to give birth; her breasts were already producing colostrum, the Braxton Hicks contractions came regularly now. As an anthropologist, Brennan knew that nature would find its way, but, still, the concept of being forever linked to another human being, one that would depend on her so much, was scary.

"I don't even know lullabies," she murmured, caressing her belly.

Just to reassure herself, she started singing nonetheless.

"I've been thinking 'bout

all the times you told me

you're so full of doubt

you just can't let it be.

But I know

if you keep coming back for more

then I'll keep on trying

keep on trying..."

That's how Booth found her, as he came back from his evening run, his cheeks glowing rosily, fresh snowflakes in his damp hair. She was so wrapped up in her musings that she hadn't even heard his keys in the lock, and when he turned around the corner, she was rocking in her chair, her sweet singing voice filling the air. His chest swelled with love at the sight of her so soft, so in nesting mode, and he took a step in her direction.

The sound of his footsteps alerted her, and with a shy grin she looked up, interrupting her song.

"Don't stop."

"I don't even know a proper lullaby."

"It's all about your voice. Lilly doesn't care what you're singing to her."

"I don't know how to be a mother."

He crouched down in front of her, picking up the sock from the floor and placing it next to the other one on her belly.

"You love her."

Immediately, a smile bloomed on her face.

"Yes, I do."

"What do you wanna teach her?"

"That she is loved. That there is a safe place in this world for her. That she can achieve whatever she wants."

"What about rainbows?"

Remembering the childhood memory she had shared with him one night, Brennan resumed rocking.

"They are beautiful. And even though there is no magic land at the end of a rainbow, it's still nice to believe in it. And the scientific explanation has its very own magic as well."

"From where I'm standing, you'll be a wonderful mother, Temperance. I wish I had known one like you when I was a little boy."

"I will never lie to her. I will always tell her the truth, no matter how painful it is."

"And I will tell her that, sometimes, there can be more than one truth. We are good together, Baby. We complement each other. Together we have it fully covered."

"Keep on trying, right?"

His lips curved up.

"And I feel so satisfied when I can see your smile. I want to confide in all that's true... so I'll keep on trying."

"We've been singing it together once."

"I know. After you've saved my poor ass."

"Your ass is lovely. The thought of losing you has already terrified me back then, but now it is unbearable."

"You won't. You couldn't." He chuckled. "Lilly will be embarrassed because we will be the only parents making out at their kid's graduation."

She joined in his laughter.

"You know that I only ever wanted to have your child, do you? Even back then, when I first asked you. I might not have seen it so clearly, but it has always been you."

He stroked her cheek in a featherlight caress.

"I think I knew it somehow. I never would have let you use someone else's stuff."

"I'm glad that it happened this way. When Michael was born, and I saw Angela and Hodgins holding him – I realized that this is the way it should be. You have always been right, Booth. Love comes first. It should."

"Look at us. Look at what we've become. It's amazing."

"Yes, but it's still us."

"I always knew."

"I know. You've told me so. Sorry for doubting it."

"Sorry for pushing you."

"Sweets' fault."

"Not completely. I was so confused with wanting you, but at the same time it felt as if you were slipping through my fingers..."

One night... the definition of insanity...

"I never should have run from this."

"I never should have let you."

"We're here now."

"We are."

Seven years of everything passed by in their minds, resulting in one shared smile full of knowing. Finally, he got up.

"By the way, I've got something for you. I've meant to give it to you for quite a while."

She watched him curiously, as he disappeared into their bedroom, coming back with a paper bag in his hand a few moments later.

"It's not Christmas yet."

"I know. This is not a Christmas present."

Handing the bag to her, he said,

"Look."

Opening the bag, Brennan noticed something soft and colorful, something that looked vaguely familiar.

"Oh, Booth... Is this _the_ blanket?"

Tugging at the bag's content, a baby quilt fell into her lap. The same yellow, green, pink and blue patches she had admired so many months ago in the shopping mall. She had just asked him to move in with her, and they had bought the flower-printed pot. It was the same and different because the blanket in the shop window had been decorated with cute bunnies and flowers while the one in her lap was embroidered with tiny skulls, dolphins and hockey sticks.

She gasped at the realization, and turned her bright eyes to him.

"Customized," he announced proudly. "After all, she's our child."

"It's beautiful," she whispered, wrapping it around her belly. "Thank you so much for remembering it."

He dropped to his knees again, resting his head on top of the blanket.

"I remember everything, Baby. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I want to make out with you at our child's graduation. Be prepared, Lilly, your parents are willing to embarrass you."

Her laughter filled the air, as clear and soft as her singing voice.

"Will you sing again, Bones? For me, for her?"

"I don't know that many songs."

"'Keep on trying' is fine. It's fitting."

Raising her voice, she sang again about one man who knew, and about a woman who was his home. She sang about unbreakable hope. She sang a song that had been part of her childhood, but it was somehow _their_ story as well.

And while she was singing, Brennan was so incredibly glad that he had been that guy and that she had always been his standard.

She might not be fully prepared to be a mother, but she would... just keep on trying.

To be continued...

_I'm probably spoiling you with updates, but I just cannot stop writing. The sentences and moments just won't stop coming..._


	18. Holidays

XIIX. Holidays

Suddenly Christmas was just around the corner. Brennan was seeing her doctor once a week by now, but Lilly was still more cooperative than her mother had ever been. The baby had already turned around, and even though Brennan's due date was still three weeks away, Lilly was a tiny but perfect human being. Brennan could feel every single one of her six pounds, though; sometimes it felt as if she was carrying a bowling ball underneath her shirt.

Work had been reduced to her mere presence in the lab. Nobody would have complained if she'd already taken her maternity leave, but Brennan felt anxious sitting around at home all day long.

"I'm pregnant, not disabled, Booth," she had stated more than once, and even though he had to tie her shoes off late, Booth found it very wise to keep his mouth shut.

Being in a relationship with a pregnant woman could equal to sitting on a tinder box at times, and this particular woman – _his_ woman – had always insisted on her independence. However, even when she was grumpy because she couldn't reach a certain shelf anymore, Booth couldn't wash the smile of his face.

Usually, he could sense her intentions before she realized that she would need his help, and no matter how frustrated she was about her limited flexibility, he could always pull her into his arms, always place a lingering kiss on top of her head. She never refused his tenderness. She wasn't that stupid.

Even though Brennan had always been proud of her capabilities, she had to admit that it was nice, his care. And, boy, how did he like taking care of her, being that man for her... Butterfly touches at her swollen ankles when he tied her shoes, his gentle hands applying lotion on the skin covering her belly, whispered words of love.

One time when he came home late after a long day in the bureau, he already found her in bed. She had fallen asleep with a book on her chest, but the little music box on her belly was still playing its lullaby.

With a smile, Booth removed the plush elephant – gray, of course – plus the book, and she meowed in sleep. Taking a seat on a chair in the corner, Booth watched her; watched her until he could feel the peace of night filling every cell of his being.

Three weeks from now he would be a father. There were moments where he still couldn't believe it. Only a year ago everything had hurt so much, and his life had been such a dark and confusing place. But even in darkness and despair, she had been there, bad been his light. Now she was his life.

_I'm quite strong._

'Oh, Baby, you are strong and soft and just plain wonderful and everything,' he thought, as his mind traveled back to another snow-filled night. Despite her brave words, she had looked at him with child-like anxiety. So much had been at stake back then, and in a moment like this, watching her peacefully asleep in _their_ bed, Booth felt like yelling it into the night air. 'I have won.'

Booth hoped that their little girl would have her mother's eyes. He loved this woman so much, had loved her for such a long time with fierceness close to despair. He wanted to find as much as possible of her in their child. His heart clenched, as he thought about those blue eyes, now closed in sleep, and the story of a life in them.

He twisted the music box elephant in his hands, remembering her doubtful words.

"Elephants would never cuddle with infants. This is so wrong. And there's music coming out of it."

"It's fluffy and soothing. It doesn't have to be anatomically correct. Look, Honey, you can place it on your belly, and the melody will be something that reminds her of the safe and cozy feeling of swimming around in you."

"She's not swimming."

"You know what I mean."

"Booth... it just feels ridiculous. Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely. Plus, it is cute. Hey, look at it."

She had regarded the toy in his hands with big, uncertain eyes, gnawing her bottom lip while doing so, and he had watched her with fascination close to ridiculousness. As always, he had noticed the second she had made up her mind.

"At least it is gray."

Bringing the plush elephant to his nose, Booth inhaled deeply. It sill smelled new somehow, but he was already able to find a trace of Brennan's scent in it. The lotion she used for her belly, her hand cream and, well, just her. He couldn't wait to smell the milky, powdery-sweet perfume of a baby as well.

After another minute of luxurious contemplation, he stripped down, sliding under the blanket beside her. She gravitated towards his warmth, finding the place in his arms that would forever be hers.

And with a deep breath, he accepted the sweet pull of sleep.

His life had become so precious that it was almost too much to bear, but Booth had grown as well. Being with her, expecting this baby... he deserved it. It was right. Finally, life felt right.

-BONES-

D.C. was covered by a thick blanket of snow, as they bought their tree. It was a modest tree, not too big, but it was _their_ first Christmas tree. Pulling and pushing the fir into their apartment, Booth thought about the Christmases they had already shared.

Locked in the lab... It had been their first one, and he had barely known her. It hadn't been the place where he had wanted to be, but maybe where he had needed to be.

Then there had been a mistletoe kiss and a tree which had been a gift. Her smile had been even more dazzling than the holiday lights. He might have loved her back then.

He thought about another Christmas, surrounded by a different kind of family. Her hand in his. A toast. They had been so very close. In retrospective, it seemed ridiculous how everything could have fallen apart shortly after.

Last Christmas he hadn't seen her at all, but every time he had looked at the bright ornaments, they had reminded him of her glistening tears full of regret. Of her heartbroken sobs.

"Are you okay?"

Her voice tore her out of his musings, and Booth noticed that their tree was still partly inside and partly outside of their apartment. Through the needles, his gaze found hers with a smile.

"I'm fine. I thought that this is our first Christmas together."

"That's not true," came her soft voice.

"I know. That was my second thought."

"Still, it is a first," she admitted.

"Our last Christmas alone."

"That's not true either."

There were Parker and the squints. Real family and self-made family.

"You know what I mean. Next year we will celebrate Christmas with our little girl. Can you believe it?"

Her hands found her belly, stroking without noticing it.

"She will be too young to realize it."

"But she will be there."

"She already is."

Dropping the tree was inevitable, and Booth climbed over it to envelop her into his arms.

"We will be parents, Bones. _Parents_. Have I told you lately how much I love you? How incredibly happy you make me?"

She smiled almost shyly, leaning into his embrace.

"Yes, you have."

"Thanks for everything."

Her silky hair tickled his nose, as she shook her head.

"No, thank _you_. You've made me believe in this. It's all yours, Booth."

"Daddy! Bones! Whoa, that tree is great!"

A cheery young voice interrupted their privacy, and the two partners looked at the boy in surprise.

"Parker! What are you doing here? It's not the 25th, yet."

"Change of plans."

A blonde woman manifested in the hallway, taking in the domestic chaos with a mild smile.

"The tree on the floor is an interesting idea."

"Yeah, we're not done yet. Hi Rebecca."

"Hi Seeley, Dr. Brennan."

Circling the tree, Rebecca tried to find a way into the apartment.

"Sorry for the surprise, Parker insisted on it."

"I've made ornaments, Dad. You just need them before you decorate the tree."

Running towards them, Parker outstretched his hands, and Brennan bent down curiously.

"Very nice, Parker. Is that gypsum?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically.

"I've made them at school."

Taking the ornaments from him, Booth found a little angel, a yellow star and something he couldn't recognize at first sight.

"Great, Parks. But what's that?" he asked with a puzzled face, pointing at the long and white ornament.

"A bone, of course," Parker answered with a frown. "Because of Bones, you know."

Brennan took the ornament from her partner.

"It could be a proximal phalange. Very well done," she finally said, and Parker's chest swelled with pride.

"And so Christmas-y," Booth teased despite the hunch of mushiness he was feeling, but they chose to ignore him anyways.

"I could help you to decorate the tree."

"Parker, your father and Dr. Brennan might want to do that alone," Rebecca jumped in.

Taking in the disappointed face of the boy, Brennan hurried to shake her head.

"Truth be told, I'm not that much of a help. I think your father would be pleased. That is," casting a glance at Rebecca, "if you don't have other plans."

"We don't, do we, Mom?"

"That would be great, Rebecca."

Two pairs of pleading eyes had turned to her, and, finally, the blonde woman gave in with a sigh.

"We do have time. But we don't want to interrupt anything."

"You don't. You wanna have a cup of coffee?"

It was the day before Christmas, and Temperance Brennan found herself in her kitchen with the other mother of Booth's child. Even after all those years of knowing each other, they had never gotten close, and it felt awkward somehow.

Laughter could be heard out of the living room, and the coffee machine did its work. Finally, Rebecca interrupted the silence.

"You don't like small talk, do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Your honesty is refreshing."

"Are you mad at me?"

"For making Seeley happy?"

"I'm part of Parker's life now."

"I'm... maybe," Rebecca smoothed her hair in a gesture of self-consciousness. "I might be a little bit jealous, but my boy... he adores you. You're giving him what I never did. A sister."

Blue met blue, as they evaluated each other.

"Look, Temperance – May I call you Temperance? – Seeley and I... we've missed our moment. But it's okay because... looking at him ever since he's met you, I know why we had to. We never had what you have. You're good for him. And you're good for Parker as well. I would be a very selfish fool not to approve of it."

"You have a wonderful son. I'm... I'm so scared."

Taken aback by that whispered admission, Rebecca took a tentative step towards Brennan.

"That's normal. I still remember after Parker was born... I was shit-scared to drop or crush him."

"You didn't."

"You won't either."

Finally, a smile found its way into the kitchen.

"Lilly, huh? That's a beautiful name."

Smiling down at her belly, Brennan nodded.

"Yes."

"Will you marry him?"

Would she? They had never talked about it again, but his words still vibrated in her chest.

_I know that you want to get married at some point._

He had gotten something right: She had fantasized about it, had written it down, created a dream for him. Marriage... Brennan had never understood it, had never been able to look past the archaic label. Sharing her life with Booth had changed her perspective, though, and suddenly... suddenly the prospect of being husband of wife didn't feel so foreign anymore.

"Maybe. One day."

"Seeley has always chased his dreams about marriage, kids, a house. Then you came along. And somehow you've gotten bigger than his dreams. Bigger than his fantasies."

Tilting her head, Brennan felt something inside of her opening for Parker's mother.

"We barely know each other, but you're awfully nice to me."

The blonde woman winked.

"It's my day of grandness."

Coffee was sipped, while a tree was decorated – "Don't tell Booth. Contrary to his belief, I _am_ allowed to drink coffee every once in a while." – and time stood still like it only ever does during snow-covered Christmas days. Rebecca shared stories about baby Parker, and Brennan told the other woman about one weird knitting club and pink socks. Laughter and warmth filled the kitchen, mingling with the cheery voices coming out of the living room.

For a brief moment, Brennan thought that once _her_ Booth had used to laugh with the woman next to her; had kissed her, slept with her, dreamed with her, but even this long-forgotten truth couldn't cloud her mood. It was the past. Experiencing her very own moment of grandness, Brennan admitted,

"You know, there was a time when I've been jealous as well."

Rebecca arched her eyebrows.

"At me?"

One nod.

"You had his child."

Rebecca took a deep breath.

"Thank you."

"For being jealous?"

"For telling me. That wasn't necessary, and I appreciate it. Now we are," she shrugged, " somehow even."

"Mom, Bones! Look at the tree!"

Father and son were beaming with pride, as the two women made their way into the living room. The tree stood proudly in one corner, decorated with sparkling ornaments and bright holiday lights, and Parker's handmade ornaments were dangling adorably in the lower branches. Booth walked beside Brennan and wrapped his arm around her.

"It's beautiful", she said, tilting her head.

He found her lips for a quick but heartfelt kiss.

"Thanks, Bones," he whispered, but she squeezed him reassuringly.

"I had a nice time. Unexpected, but nice."

"Of course," Parker spoke, "this is the last time we did that in the middle of the day. After all, Lilly has to believe in Santa."

Booth chuckled.

"I'm positive we can manage that."

"You're ready to go now, Parker?"

The boy nodded, casting a last glance at the tree.

"I will bring him tomorrow afternoon."

"Great. Thanks, Rebecca."

"Thanks for the coffee, Temperance. And... good luck."

Then they were alone again, and his hold on her tightened.

"Now we didn't decorate our first tree together," he said, and she could hear a hunch of sadness.

"There will always be more trees, Booth."

"Sorry for this."

"It's okay. I find that I like her. And, besides, we have something in common."

A frown found its way on his face.

"No sex talk that involves me."

"God, no."

Brennan shuddered at the imagination.

"I don't want to compare notes with her. She might know too much."

Tapping her chin, Booth tilted her head.

"You know more."

"It's the past."

"It's so much the past that we'd have to invent another tense for it."

"What do we do now?"

"Eat cookies? Look at our tree? Be happy?"

So they did. All of it. Wrapped into one huge blanket, they cuddled on the couch, bathed in the glow of holiday lights. Two years ago her father had told her that being alone on Christmas means that nobody loves you.

Last year she had been alone. Loneliness had weighed heavily on her, and she had felt the truth behind her father's words.

Today everything was warm, and nothing hurt. She would never be lonely again.

Around eleven pm he disentangled himself from her, preparing himself for midnight mass. And even though he had never asked, she got up as well, fetching her coat. His eyes grew wide, as he noticed it, but he didn't say anything. His hand grabbed hers, though, never letting go.

She sang with him, bowed her head, as he whispered his prayers, and even though she didn't believe in his God, gratitude and peace washed over her.

The air was chilly, as they left the church in this Holy Night, and he pulled her close to share his body heat with her, as they walked to his car. The snow made funny noises underneath their feet, and her cheeks were cold despite the warmth she felt.

It was one silent night.

And then it was Christmas. It was awakening close to each other, whispering against the sleepiness. Breakfast next to a tree. Wrapped little somethings. He had bought her a locket with them name of their daughter and a dainty dolphin engraved. She had gotten him his very own Rolex and found it quite amusing to call him "Mr. Rolex".

Kisses were shared, sweet and sloppy, and if she hadn't already felt Lilly so perfectly nestled into her pelvis, it would have turned into slow and tender lovemaking underneath the tree.

Parker arrived with bright eyes, excitement about even more gifts in his wake, and even though he didn't believe in Santa anymore, there were a lot of presents for him to rip open. They played with his new toys for a few hours until he remembered something. With a beaming smile, he placed a tiny present in Brennan's hand. The wrapping paper was adorably wrinkled.

"It's for Lilly, but since she's not here, yet, you can open it for her. Mom helped me."

It was a CD, and Brennan lifted her eyes to his curiously.

"Bedtime stories," Parker announced proudly. "I've read them, and you can play them to her when I'm not around."

"Oh, Parker, that's lovely. Such a nice idea."

Brennan was deeply touched, but Booth felt a lump in his throat almost too big to swallow.

"Thanks Parks. She'll love it."

The boy was visibly delighted, and Booth just had to envelop him into a bear hug. After all, it was Christmas, and if you cannot be mushy on Christmas...

-BONES-

The days between Christmas and New Year's Eve went by in work-less peace. Booth and Brennan enjoyed every second of their intimate togetherness, and apart from a few walks in the snow – another beanie, her eyes as bright as the white glory – and one dinner night at Angela's and Hodgins' place, they didn't leave home at all.

Cuddling up against each other in the wee hours of morning, shared endearments, movie nights and laundry days – as mundane as it might be, to them it was so incredibly precious. Despite six years of moving towards and around each other, their relationship had started like free fall. But somehow... somehow they had learned to fly.

He had already tested those wings – once or twice; she had never used them before. But just like his arm around her shoulder, they were a perfect fit.

On New Year's Eve she wore a black dress – the only one that did still fit – and her cheek pressed to his tuxedo-clad shoulder, she danced with him in their living room. Candles illuminated the place, casting dusky shadows on the waiting little crib in the corner, and bubbly alcohol-free champagne tickled their mouths.

In the last seconds of the old year he kissed her, and their lips lost in each other, they greeted the new year. The sound of fireworks in the air, he cradled her in his arms.

"Happy 2012, Bones."

"Happy New Year, Honey."

It was a new beginning, but it didn't scare them. The baby was kicking between them, announcing her presence, and Booth cupped Brennan's belly lovingly.

"Happy first year, Lilly," he whispered.

Thirty-eight weeks after they had lost Vincent, after they had turned grief into hope, a new year was just a number. Ignoring the fireworks outside their windows, his mouth found hers anew, creating sparkles and light.

And her beauty was just as dazzling as it had been last night, last year, a few seconds ago.

To be continued...

_Close... so close..._


	19. A Miracle

_Wow, I got my first negative review ever. I guess it had to happen at some point, but it's still a bummer. I know that this story has been very sweet and fluffy, maybe too sweet. But, "B&B function on angst"? That might have been true in the past, but I believe that two people who have loved each other for so long will grow beyond that with a baby in the picture. That doesn't mean that I believe season seven will be a cute flow of fluffiness and candy-covered moments. But we will only get glimpses of their life in the show, and this is a fan-fiction. I guess it is too cute at times... but, well, writing the new canon is really tough... Enough rambling. The journey is almost over... Enjoy! _

XIX. A Miracle

Temperance Brennan was grumpy. She had hardly slept because her aching back had kept her awake for the better part of the night. It hadn't helped that Booth beside her had snored contently, had woken up half an hour ago like his cheeriest self. In former times, she would have turned insomnia into something productive, writing or lab work for example, but Brennan knew that her body needed the rest, would probably need it even more a few weeks from today. One week away from her due date, the baby's movements had lost their charm, and the kicks and bumps had turned into a far different sensation than fluttering butterflies.

Rubbing her belly with a sigh, Brennan watched Booth rummaging around in their kitchen. She wasn't even hungry. Sensing her mood, Booth found it wise to keep his mouth shut – he had learned that just the day before yesterday – and Brennan felt almost sorry for him. Almost... Why hadn't he used a condom? Why had he used his lovey-dovey powers on her?

The other day she had gotten the offer to supervise a dig – apparently the grapevine didn't work that well after all – and even though the rational part of her knew that she didn't really want to be somewhere else, that this family they were creating was the biggest challenge of her life, one irrational part – the one with the swollen feet and aching back – didn't fail to remind her that she could be working on an interesting project right now, her body tormented by nothing but heat and mud. If only he had used a condom. If only the love thing hadn't happened...

A cup of coffee was placed in front of her, and she took a first cautious sip. Her eyebrows arched up.

"You're giving me real coffee?"

He shrugged.

"You look as if you could need it. Bones... why don't you stay at home? You don't have to go to work anymore. Go back sleeping."

She snorted.

"Yes, because that did work so well all night long."

Circling the counter, he stepped behind her, his fingers finding the tension in her lower back, working on the knots. Her head fell onto the table with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," she muttered after a while.

Bending over, he placed a kiss in her tousled hair.

"I'm sorry as well. Bones... do you... regret it?"

"This? Us?"

"Hm-hmm."

"Only in my very stupid moments. I'd take you over a dig any day. I just... want to feel normal again."

"I wish I could help you in any way..."

Lifting her head, she turned around on her chair to face him.

"You do, Booth. It's just... breathing is so hard. My feet hurt. I feel so heavy. Everything has changed so much, and sometimes... I miss my old life. But... not really." She sighed, cursing her mood swings. "Does this make any sense?"

He nodded slowly.

"You don't have to give up you old life completely, Bones. I could always take a leave of absence, and we could accompany you whenever the urge to play with dirty old bones gets overwhelming. Not forever I guess... but a few weeks here and there..."

Her face softened at his offer.

"Just... don't walk out on us..."

"Booth... I would never do that. I want this, I just... want her out of me. I'm so tired..."

Turning her around completely, he pulled her into his arms, and she leaned into his oh so familiar embrace.

"Just a little bit longer."

She sighed, but, as always, everything seemed easier when she was in his arms.

"An elephant's pregnancy lasts twenty-two months. I think I should be grateful."

He chuckled into her hair.

"It's snowing again. I should leave or I will be late for court."

"The Albinger case again?"

"Yeah. Last day of trial."

"I knew you didn't dress up for me."

"Hey, I _do_ dress up for you as well. What about you? Consider staying at home, please."

She shook her head.

"At least the lab provides distraction."

"Okay. But I'll drag you away around lunch-time."

"Sounds acceptable."

Another kiss, a last sip of coffee later he grabbed his coat, leaving her behind. His gentle massage had eased the tension, but now that he was gone, the dull ache was back with full force.

Getting showered and dressed turned out to be more difficult than ever, and it was almost one hour later when Brennan regarded her professional self in the full-length mirror. Her black maternity pants felt unpleasantly tight around her enormous belly. 'One more week,' she told herself.

One more week.

-BONES-

The lab was uncharacteristically quiet, as Brennan arrived, and she found Cam and Hodgins on the platform, dissecting something that looked like...

"Is that a rabbit?"

"Busted," Hodgins hissed, but Cam merely shrugged.

"The workload is fairly low, Dr. Brennan, so we decided to, ahem, test a theory."

"Which theory?"

"Don't tell her, don't tell her," Hodgins muttered, and Cam almost blushed.

"Ahem... shouldn't you be on maternity leave?"

Brennan sighed.

"Fine. Don't ask me, and I don't ask you."

"Sounds fair."

"Where are Dr. Edison and Mr. Bray?"

"Limbo."

"It's bone storage, Dr. Hodgins."

"Whatever. Where's Booth? Any new cases?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but he's in court."

Brennan gave the rabbit on the autopsy table one more incredulous glance.

"I really hope you didn't kill it."

"Me too," Cam mumbled barely audibly.

"Fine... I'll be in my office."

"See you later Dr. B."

Cam and Hodgins watched her waddling away before they turned their attention back to the deceased pet.

"You're sure it wasn't my plant which killed Fluffy?"

"Yep, no plant residues in the stomach content. Cause of death seems to be a stroke. I'm sorry for your loss."

Cam sighed.

"Michelle really liked that rabbit."

"Okay, you've got it covered from here? I should really check on the frogs."

Cam shuddered.

"I find it kind of gross that there are currently fifty highly poisonous frogs in here. Frogs aren't even your field of expertise."

"Neither is dissecting rabbits. And frogs aren't gross. It's a favor for an old friend. He picks them up tonight."

And while one bug man was on his way to check on fifty amphibians, one pathologist finished her necropsy, and two forensic anthropologists were bent over approximately fifty years old human remains. In another part of the town a trial took place. The snowfall stopped. And just when Temperance Brennan was certain that her back pain wasn't just back pain but contractions, the shrill alarm of the Jeffersonian cut into the morning air.

Lockdown.

And her water broke.

Lockdown.

She was in labor.

Lockdown.

Her baby was coming.

Lockdown.

Booth wasn't here.

Lockdown.

Brennan's face was pale, as Cam, Hodgins, Clark and Wendell stormed into her office, yelling and fighting.

Frogs. Poisonous. Fifty. Gone.

Lockdown.

A contraction.

"How can they be gone?"

"I don't know… the lock must have been damaged."

"Fifty, Hodgins, fifty. They can't just disappear."

"I hate frogs. So slimy."

"Poisonous!"

"Fifty!"

"The baby is coming."

"Fif- what?"

Four pairs of panicked eyes turned to an equally panicked Temperance Brennan.

"My water broke."

"Oh my God."

"Lockdown?"

"Lockdown."

"Fifty frogs?"

"Fifty frogs."

"They can be everywhere..."

"Everywhere in the lab."

"We have to catch them."

"The baby's coming."

Brennan's last words were emphasized by a sharp outcry, as she bent over on her desk, holding her belly.

"Booth will kill you, Hodgins," Cam uttered.

The entomologist ruffled his hair.

"Crap, I know."

"What do you know about births, Cam?"

The pathologist's eyes turned wide.

"Me?"

"My mom went into labor while riding a roller coaster," Wendell jumped in.

"And that helps how exactly?"

The young man blushed.

"Not at all. I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan."

"This isn't your fault. Hodgins, _find these frogs_," she yelled.

-BONES-

Seeley Booth was in a good mood. Guilty. The trial had ended with the desired verdict, he was about to have lunch with his pregnant girlfriend, and life was a nice place. Whistling, he left the court building, fishing for his cell phone. Four missed calls. He hit voicemail, and almost choked on his smile.

Jeffersonian. Lockdown. Poisonous frogs. Labor.

He almost fell down the stairs hitting speed dial, and a few seconds later he could hear Brennan's distressed voice.

"Booth..."

"Baby!"

"Yes, baby."

"What... how... why?"

His stomach turned upside down, as her desperate scream hit his ear, and then it was Cam's voice.

"Booth, relax."

"Relax? Relax? Don't tell me to relax, Cam. What happened?"

"Hodgins' frogs are on the run, and we're locked down as long as he hasn't caught them. He's gotten thirteen so far. Brennan's water broke. Booth, this is not my field of expertise, but everything's going quite quickly."

"Frogs? I'm coming."

"Booth, you can't. Did I mention that the frogs are highly poisonous?"

"Stop it. I'm coming. Give her the phone."

Rustling at the other end of the line.

"Booth... I'm so sorry. For being grumpy this morning. For coming here."

"Nuts. This is not your fault, Bones. Listen, I'm coming."

"You can't... lockdown."

"Me here, you there? Not acceptable. Hasn't been acceptable back then, is most definitely not acceptable right now. Hang on, Babe. Just breathe."

"It hurts so much..."

Her voice broke, and he hurt for her. The cell pressed to his ear, he run towards his car. Apparently, he had underestimated the icy street because, suddenly, it was Brennan's turn to be startled by an outcry at the other end of the line, and Booth found himself on his ass.

"Booth? Are you hurt?"

"Just my pride. How far along are you?"

"Water, ah..."

Her scream cut straight into his chest, and he hurried to find his car keys.

"Water broke... an hour ago. Contractions began... apparently last night."

"Last night? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I've never done this before, I thought it was back pain. Being pregnant hurts at times. _Hurts_!"

"Shh, I'm sorry, stay calm, Bones."

"I want you here..."

Her voice was nothing but a tiny whisper.

"I will be there. Soon, very soon."

"Beware of the frogs. More than half of them are still missing."

"Are you safe?"

"On my desk. Cam's here. Mr. Bray is guarding the exit." She giggled. "With a bat."

He could hear voices in the background.

"Mr. Bray wants me to inform you that he is an excellent baseball player."

A gasp, followed by another muffled cry. He clutched the phone harder.

"Breathe, Baby, Breathe."

"I am _fucking breathing_!"

"Sorry..."

"Sorry... it just hurts so much."

"How are you? Apart from the pain?"

"There is no part apart from the pain. No, I take that back. I'm mortified. I'm covered by a blanket and Cam is kneeling between my legs. I cannot read her face, but it doesn't look good. Could be either disgust or panic."

"Everything's fine, Booth," Cam shouted in the background, and then one more cry announced just another contraction.

"Blood, Booth."

"That should be normal, shouldn't it?"

"My pelvic bone feels different."

"Normal as well?"

"I'm not objective anymore."

"Just pant."

"I don't want to pant. I don't want to be here, Booth. She's too early."

"This morning you were very eager to get her out as soon as possible."

"I've changed my mind. She can stay."

A squishing bang could be heard, followed by Wendell's voice.

"Twenty-six!"

"Eek, Bones? Are you okay?"

"One frog didn't make it."

"Don't kill them, Wendell!"

"Then catch them."

"Guys, I'm trying to pull this baby out of Dr. Brennan!"

"Don't you dare pulling her!"

"Bones?" he almost didn't dare to whisper, but then her attention was back on him.

"This is not like we've planned it."

"Does Cam know what she's doing?"

"I'm not positive. But she has Paul on Skype."

"Thank God that she's dating a gynecologist. Does this mean that there is a web cam between your legs right now?"

"I don't really care anymore."

"Sorry. I wanna kiss that guy for being there."

"Booth is grateful, Paul."

"Twenty-eight!"

"Ahhhhh..."

"Bones... Bones..."

"I have to check your uterine orifice."

"I'm sorry, Cam..."

"Trust me, me too."

"Booth... please come..."

"On my way."

"We don't even have something for her to wear..."

"Hospital bag. In my car."

"Oh thank God. I don't want to wrap our daughter into an autopsy blanket."

"Water, Wendell, I need more water!"

"Clark! Water!"

"Twenty-nine!"

"Noooo..."

"What? What happened, Bones?"

"Skype crashed. Paul's gone."

"Reconnect!"

"She's trying. Ahhhh..."

Another squishing noise in the distance.

"Don't kill them, Wendell!" Hodgins yelled.

"Thirty."

"Babe?"

"Yes?" came her breathless voice.

"Any frogs made it into your office so far?"

"No, Mr. Bray is very efficient."

"I want to kiss him either."

"Booth is grateful, Mr. Bray."

"I can already see the Jeffersonian. Hang on, Bones."

"I am hanging. On my desk. Oh, Paul's back."

"Help, help!"

"Breathe, Cam."

"Breathe yourself, Dr. Brennan."

"Ahhh..."

"Thirty-one!"

Booth stopped the car with an unhealthy sound, but remembering his slip from earlier, he tried not to run. At Brennan's next cry, he threw caution in the wind, though.

"I'm coming."

"Booth, I love you."

"Love you, too, Babe, you have no idea. Crap. Security."

"How much left?"

"Nineteen."

"Put your feet on my shoulders, Dr. Brennan."

"Forget it, Cam."

"Modesty? Really? My hand has already been in your vagina."

"Bones?"

"Booth... I don't want to be here... Ahhh..."

The shrieking noise of the Jeffersonian alarm cut into the hurly-burly the second time that day.

"Damn. I think that was me, Bones."

"Turn the fucking alarm off!"

"Thirty-two!"

"Beware of the frogs, Booth. They're fairly small and very poisonous."

"Tell him not to destroy any doors! We need them!"

"Don't destroy doors."

"Fifty frogs on the run? I'm not that stupid. I'm picking the locks."

"Eighteen frogs left. Ahhhh..."

"Hair! I can see the baby's hair!"

"Don't panic, Cam!"

"Get her out of me!"

"Expulsive pains. You have to squeeze the next time."

"Booth! Frog!"

"Jack Hodgins, you're a dead man."

"I know, Dude."

"Booth! Are you here? Oh thank God."

The room vanished along with the noises of the frog hunt and her rather unconventional midwife, as one winter-cold and breathless man stormed into her office.

"Booth."

Then he was by her side, his head pressed into her shoulder, her sweat-covered face in his hands.

"Bones, my Bones..."

He pressed a hard kiss onto her lips, followed by another one, softer. His fingers brushed a few sticky strands out of her brow, as he took her all in, her pale eyes wide, her beautiful face twisted in pain.

"How are you?"

The first candid smile in hours lit up her face.

"Better."

"I can see her head, Booth."

Turning his head for one quick heartbeat, Booth noticed Cam's fearful gaze and Paul's smiling face on the monitor next to her. Another thump.

"Thirty-three."

"Don't kill them, man!"

"It's not dead, just unconscious. Pick it up."

Taking her hand, Booth placed a lingering kiss in Brennan's palm.

"Remember our vacation? The fireplace? The storm?"

She nodded with a shimmer in her eyes.

"Just think of that place, Bones. A nice and safe place. Just you and me."

"I'm not scared anymore."

And it was the truth. Somehow his mere presence had made everything right again. It hurt like hell, but right before her next contraction which would or would not tear her apart, Brennan experienced a strange moment of peace.

A night full of comfort and consummation, two scary lines in a hospital restroom, nine months of growing... it all had led to this very moment. Their journey wasn't over, but after today, they would travel in a threesome.

There would be sun, there would be rain, there would be rainbows. They would live in D.C., solve crimes, or they would travel the ends of the world to collect ancient remains. The only thing that mattered was that they would do it together.

She would be part of a family... had been part of a family for the better part of the last years, but somehow she had never felt it as clearly as right now.

"It's worth it," she whispered.

"It's worth it," he agreed, and then her face twisted again, as she clasped his hand in a vice-like grip.

His arm around her shoulder, Booth supported her, whispered sweet nonsense into her ear.

"More, once more, Dr. Brennan," Cam demanded, and just when Brennan's painful scream mingled with Hodgins' "thirty-four", another cry could be heard, tinier, newer.

"Oh God, oh God," Cam whispered, holding the bloody and squirming baby in her hands.

And then nothing mattered anymore, and the world faded faced with the elephant in the room that was their daughter.

Lilly was there.

Time stood still for one fragile moment, acknowledging the miracle of birth.

Booth reached for one towel, or maybe Cam did it herself, and then the cries subsided, as the little girl was placed on her mother's chest. Brennan's arms trembled, as they closed around the warm and slippery baby for the very first time, and one tiny face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

Blinking against the tears, Booth tried to engrave the moment into his heart. He hardly noticed Cam, as she cleaned his hands with an antiseptic tissue, and then one shaking finger stroked over the baby's fist. It opened immediately, curling around the bigger finger, and he had to swallow hard.

Bowing his head, he buried his nose in Brennan's hair, and then he couldn't fight the tears anymore. Tilting her head, she kissed his jaw, his cheek, everything she could reach, and the baby between them meowed softly.

It was too much, simply too much, and his arm around her shoulders tightened, as her tears mingled with his own.

Cam next to them sniffled as well.

"I have to clean and examine her. And we have to take care of the afterbirth as well."

"I know. Just... one moment."

Opening the terrycloth towel, Brennan took in her daughter. Dark fluff on her head, tiny hands, tiny feet, tiny phalanges, a part of the umbilical cord still attached to her navel. Soft milky-white skin covered by blood and vernix caseosa. Rose petal lips, long lashes. A birthmark on her left clavicle.

"Hi Lilly," she whispered, and the baby opened unfocused blue eyes.

"She's as beautiful as you, Bones," Booth breathed next to her.

Cam cleared her throat and outstretched her arms to take the baby. Paul gave his instructions for the first examination, and then Lilly was washed. Cam wanted to measure and weigh her as well, but Booth wouldn't allow her to put his daughter on an autopsy scale – "She won't grow _that much_ until we've made it to the hospital." – and around them the frog hunt continued.

They didn't notice it, though, and half an hour later a redressed Brennan was lying on her couch, her clean and dressed daughter in her arms. Booth was kneeling beside them, alternating between kissing Brennan and the baby.

She felt... everything. Love, so hot, so burning. Exhaustion, fear. Pride for having created this perfect human being. Pain almost everywhere below her navel. And even more love. The overwhelming urge to take Lilly home, take care of her. The longing to drown in Booth's arms. She who had never been good with emotions was so full of them that she couldn't even label them. All that Brennan knew was that this was the most perfect moment of her life. And she was grateful, so very grateful. For his faith in her which had never wavered, for all the unplanned yet inevitable circumstances that had led to that one night, this very moment.

Angela had been right all those months ago. It was beautiful. Was a dream.

The baby on her chest yawned adorably, her weight warm and heavy in Brennan's arms. And she felt like crying and singing and dying all at the same time.

Cam had slumped down in the corner, drinking Scotch straight from the bottle, and it could have been minutes or hours later when Hodgins' triumphant "fifty" vibrated through the lab.

Paramedics hurried in, but apparently they were satisfied with Cam's work. Hodgins, Clark and Wendell crashed beside her, and the bottle circled between the four of them. Booth threw them one beaming smile.

"Thank you all, guys."

Cam waved it off.

"You won't kill me, then?" Hodgins dared to ask.

"Nah. Couldn't kill my baby's godfather."

Despite her protest, Brennan was transferred onto a stretcher, but she wouldn't allow them to take the baby away from her. Grabbing the hospital bag, Booth followed his family, and then four disheveled squints were left alone in the battlefield.

"Just so you know, you rock, Cam," Hodgins stated, and the woman took another healthy swig.

"I know."

"And you owe me three frogs, Wendell."

"Forget it, man."

It was the sixth of January, a cold winter's Friday. It was the day when Lilly Brennan-Booth had joined the world. It was the day when Temperance Brennan became a mother, the day when Seeley Booth became a father again.

It was the day when a mother cried silent tears of happiness, as she nursed her daughter for the first time; the day when a man looked at the woman he had loved for so long just to find out how much he had underestimated the concept of love so far.

Because... every once in a while, every once in a while two people meet, and there is that spark. He is handsome, and she is beautiful, but making love... it is so much more. It is about becoming one, but if you're very, very lucky... it could be even more than that.

Becoming three.

To be continued.

_1. No frogs have been harmed while writing this chapter._

_2. Epilogue anyone? _


	20. A Honeymoon

_I have to say, "Wow." The sheer number of reviews I've gotten for the last chapter (more than 70, oh my God) blew my mind. Following me, you know that I don't write for reviews, but reading how much you liked my version of the birth – especially since I was very apprehensive about writing a birth in the first place – it meant a lot to me. Thank you so much :-)_

XX. A Honeymoon

One year later.

It was a sunny day in the end of March when a man and a woman became husband and wife.

Booth had never pushed her, but like he had told her in the beginning of their relationship, he had known that she'd want to get married at some point. Like so often, he had been right.

Nothing had prepared Brennan for the rush of unconditional love that had flooded her as her daughter – this tiny, bloody human being – had been placed on her chest for the very first time. Instantly, Brennan had known that she would kill and die for her without as much as a second of hesitation. She had cried, as those incredibly soft lips had closed around her breast for the first time, sucking greedily. The weird feeling of milk flowing out of her had been nothing compared to the magnitude of nursing her daughter. Their child. The most beautiful baby ever.

Love came first... it created a reaction, and the reaction it had created in Temperance Brennan was the most powerful sensation she had ever experienced. She had craved more.

Walking down the aisle on her father's arm, Brennan heard a triumphant shriek over the music, and her smile deepened, as she realized that it had been Lilly recognizing her mother. Turning her head, Brennan saw the little girl jumping up and down on her brother's lap.

Fourteen months old, she was quite a handful... and so cute. Her auburn hair had more resemblance with feathery fluffs than actual hair. Angela had suggested shaving Lilly's head because the new hair would grow back stronger, but they hadn't had the heart to do so. After all, she was still their little baby. She still smelled like sweet milk, even though Brennan had stopped breastfeeding long ago. Her face was still a baby face – chubby cheeks and her mother's big blue eyes.

Lilly had outgrown her baby corner, but moving had been postponed once again when Parker had "claimed custody" of his sister. Even though he had been the perfect big brother right from the start, there had been a few rare occasions when the green monster had raised its head, but somehow sharing his room with his sister had tipped the balance once and for all. Booth and Brennan loved eavesdropping on the weekend nights when Parker was over, loved listening to the girl's babbling and the boy's whispered words. Despite the age difference, Parker adored his baby sister, and as for Lilly... the girl was convinced that her charming big brother had hung the moon.

Tearing her gaze away from Parker and Lilly, Brennan took in the man standing next to the priest, waiting for her like he always had. A catholic wedding. It had been another compromise she had made, and seeing Booth's beaming face, Brennan couldn't muster an ounce of regret. This ceremony meant nothing to her, but the fact that he would be her husband from now on... it did.

He watched her walking down the aisle, witnessed by their families and friends, and Booth found her more beautiful than ever – but then again, he had often thought so in the past.

That first time, for example, when he had spotted her in a crowded lecture hall. She had taken his breath away right from the start. Or that one time at Halloween when she had been wearing that tiny nothing of a Wonder Woman costume. Her first time sleeping in his arms... Despite the evidence of her tears, she had been nothing but stunning to him. Or the months when her body had been heavy with his child. And later, her face damp with sweat and tears, and the newborn baby lying on her chest. He hadn't thought that something could be more beautiful; had had to admit very soon that he had been wrong, though, because the sight of Brennan in the rocking chair, breastfeeding their daughter – it had been more than beauty. Booth had been almost sad when she had weaned Lilly a few months ago.

Despite her initial apprehension, Brennan was a wonderful mother. Motherhood hadn't come easy to her, just like love itself hadn't, but he had always admired her steep learning curve, and she had grown into her new role.

In the beginning, during those first nights with the tiny and fragile baby in its cradle, Booth had found her constantly checking on Lilly, feeling her temperature, rearranging the plush elephant and its companions, listening to her breath pattern. Eventually, Brennan had relaxed. Her graceful body had changed again, had lost its pregnancy weight, and today she was almost as slender as two years ago.

She laughed more, though. Love... it suited her.

And now she was walking towards him, this woman who had never believed in marriage. She wasn't wearing a bridal gown, but the simple cream-colored dress looked nothing but stunning. There wasn't a flower bouquet either – "I cannot understand why I should hold flowers in my hand, I never do that, Booth." – but, still, she was his bride.

She had asked him. A smile played around his lips, as he thought about one night not so long ago. Lilly had been teething, crying for hours. His shirt had been damp from the baby's tears, and Brennan had looked as exhausted as he had felt when they had finally watched their sleeping daughter.

"I think we should get married."

"Whoa, what?"

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Jeez, how romantic, Bones."

"We are both sleep-deprived, covered in saliva and tears. The diaper pail needs to be emptied, and we have been too tired to do the laundry far too long. I think it is safe to say that it could hardly get less romantic."

"Nonetheless, you are proposing to me now?"

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because... you have been right. I want to be your wife, and I want you to be my husband. And I don't want it because of a surreal moment of romance, I want it because of the life we're living."

His heart in his throat, he had gathered her in his arms, chanting, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over again, kissing her tired by beaming face. It hadn't been the moment he had always envisioned, but it had felt nothing but right. And half an hour from now, she would be his wife.

It was a modest ceremony, just their families and their closest friends. Max. Russ, Amy and the girls. Hank, Parker and Lilly. Jared and Padme. Sweets. The squints. Angela, Hodgins, Michael and his new baby brother. Not willing to risk the chance a second time, the Hodgins family had adopted the infant three months ago, and Brennan's and Angela's weekly play date had turned into quite a challenging event, especially since Michael and Lilly had mastered the art of walking.

Her life which had always centered around the dead ones... it was all about living now, and even though Brennan hadn't managed to stay away from the lab as long as intended, there was still a healthy balance.

Then she was by his side, and, with a kiss on her cheek, Max placed Brennan's hand into Booth's. The priest cleared his throat, but lost in her gaze, Booth couldn't really pay attention to the words. His thumb moved over her phalanges, and Brennan couldn't help but smile at his obvious awe.

'Listen to the priest, Booth, this is what you've always wanted,' she tried to signal, and with a sheepish grin, he tried to focus on the ceremony.

Their wedding vows were simple but sincere. She promised love and faith, and those words had long stopped scaring her. He promised devotion and respect; something he had always proven to her.

He would always stand beside her, and she would always stand beside him, and as he slipped the wedding band on her finger with trembling hands, as she fumbled with his very own ring, it was just one more moment when Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth stood beside each other.

Then they were husband and wife.

-BONES-

"It feels weird not having her around," Brennan stated with a frown, ogling her quiet cell phone.

Booth stepped onto the patio behind her, and, his arms wrapped around her slender waist, he took a deep breath to inhale the refreshing ocean breeze.

"We've never been away from her before," he said and placed a kiss in her wind-tousled hair.

"Do you think she feels lonely?" she asked, and he knew that Brennan was worried about more than going on vacation for a week.

"She isn't alone, Babe, she has Angela, Hodgins and the boys. Lilly feels safe with them. She knows that her Mommy and Daddy will come back."

"How can you be so sure? She's so little..."

"Faith, Bones. Lilly doesn't know it any other way."

"Maybe we should call her... Do I sound like an airplane mom?"

He chuckled.

"Helicopter mom. And, no, you're not. You're just away from your baby for the very first time. Call her."

Brennan hit the button with a sigh of relief, and, the call on speakers, Angela's voice cut into the Caribbean evening a moment later.

"How are my favorite lovebirds doing on their honeymoon?"

"I don't like that term, but we're fine. Our hut is lovely, quite secluded, and the ocean view is fantastic."

In the background an infant started to cry, and Angela sighed.

"I am officially jealous."

"And you have every right to be," Booth jumped in with a smirk. "How is Lilly?"

"Two feet six inches? About six words in her repertoire?"

"Yup, sounds like our daughter."

"She's fine. Wait... Lilly, come here, Mommy and Daddy are calling."

Booth and Brennan smiled at each other, and then the oh-so-familiar sound of a toddler's breathing could be heard, passing two-thousand miles in one heartbeat.

"Hi Lilly."

"Hello little doll!"

The girl squealed, as she heard her parents' voices. The concept of a phone wasn't unfamiliar to Lilly, and her lack of shyness was very refreshing.

"Mommy. Daddy. Cookie."

"Angela gave you a cookie?"

"Cookie!"

"It's almost bed time, Sweetie."

"Ellie!"

"Yes, your elephant has to sleep as well."

"Mommy Ellie?"

"Mommy and Daddy will come back in a week, Lilly. Angela will tuck you in tonight."

"Lilly!" the girl said proudly, recognizing her name.

"We love you, Lilly."

"Lilly."

Bringing the phone to her mouth, Brennan kissed it very audibly, and giggles pearled at the other end of the line.

"I'm kissing you."

Smacking noises replaced the giggles, and Angela protested in the background.

"Lilly Brennan-Booth, don't lick the phone!"

Brennan smiled at the mental image, and Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Her soft hair tickled his nose, and trhough the phone he could still hear the adorable kissing noises of their daughter.

"Bye bye, Lilly. Goodnight. Daddy loves you."

"Sweet dreams," Brennan added.

"Ellie," came Lilly's high voice, and then it was Angela again.

"Brenn, I really wish you would stop the phone kissing thing. Your daughter's motoric skills aren't as outstanding as you might think."

Brennan shrugged it off.

"Clean it, then. Technically, you still owe me a carpet, Ange."

"Ah, come on, you can't really blame Michael for that. It was an accident."

Booth listened to the friendly banter with a big grin on his face. Brennan and Angela were mothers now, _mothers_, and one of them might be a world-renowned forensic anthropologist slash bestselling author, and the other one might be a very talented artist, but at the end of the day, these days they were just mothers madly in love with their babies.

Two years ago, Booth wouldn't have been able to imagine that his brilliant and very professional partner would ever kiss a phone. He had never seen her balancing a toddler on her hip while preparing breakfast. Had never seen her playing with rubber ducks in a bubble-bath. He had never found her asleep on the couch, an equally knocked out little girl lying on her belly. Had never known family life like this.

She was still Dr. Temperance Brennan. Brennan or Brenn for their friends and coworkers, Tempe for her father and brother, Bones, always Bones for him. But now there was someone who called her "Mommy". And he knew that this was the title she adored the most.

The lack of voices tore him out of his happy musings, and then she was looking at him with a smile in her bright eyes. Taking her face into his hands, Booth brushed a few unruly strands aside.

"You're my wife," he whispered.

"I know," she answered teasingly, "I've been there. Plus, we're on our honeymoon. That's another indicator."

"I'm your husband... It still sounds amazing."

Tilting her head, she offered her lips to him, and he kissed them soundly.

"I don't know about you, Bones, but I'm starving. What do you say about finding a nice restaurant?"

She thought about their girl with mac and cheese smeared all over her face, about tomatoes being squished between little fingers, about apple slices dug out of a piece of pie.

"I have no objections. A civilized dinner sounds nice for a change."

One hour later they were both showered and redressed. Booth wore jeans and a simple white shirt while Brennan was clad in a flower-printed summer dress. The hem waved around her ankles with every step, and her long hair fell freely and curly onto her shoulder blades. It was a mild evening, and even though their hut provided a lot of privacy, the resort itself possessed several nice restaurants in walking distance.

"Do you know that the natives of Martinique call this island 'Madinina'?" she asked, and it didn't surprise her that much when Booth nodded.

"Isle of flowers, I know."

"You did some research on the history of the island as well?"

"Call it travel guide, Babe. You know... this is our first real vacation."

Remembering a cottage and the autumn-colored woods of the Blue Ridge Mountains, Brennan shook her head.

"No, Booth. I disagree."

"West Virginia?"

"Yes."

"Oh come on, there was no beach, no sun."

"It might not have been a Caribbean dream, I might have been as big as an elephant, but it was my first real vacation," she stated softly.

"Okay, but this is our first vacation as a married couple."

"Sometimes you're overly sentimental."

"Sometimes you're stubborn on purpose."

"You _like_ it," she chanted, and he groaned in mock frustration.

"You know I do."

He pulled her closer, and his arm snaked around her waist. For a brief moment, her head fell onto his shoulder, and mingled with the Booth-y scent she knew so well, Brennan found a trace of flowers and sea salt, the smell of holidays.

The sea breeze was caressing her face, and she could feel Booth's body heat through their clothes. Brennan felt light, so light. It reminded her of one Sunday about nine weeks after giving birth to Lilly. About the first night after becoming three when he had made love to her again. Pressed to each other from head to toe, no pregnant belly between them, she had trembled in his arms. And again... and again... until she had felt so light, so weightless. This time it was another kind of weightless, though, one that did not originate in her body but in her mind.

She had arrived. It was a place she had never thought she'd long for, but now she couldn't imagine it any other way. She couldn't think of a life without Booth anymore, without Lilly or Parker. She didn't want to. She wanted the love, the messiness. She wanted peanut butter kisses in the morning, arms around her at night. Her formerly well-organized life had hit a dead end, but she didn't mind colorful socks on the floor or toys in her office. Didn't mind one iota.

The restaurant was elegant and cozy, and the waiter guided them politely to their table. Somewhere a guitar man was releasing a melody into the night air, and the waves of the ocean rolled in the distance. He ordered sea food, she settled on grilled vegetables. They shared a bottle of wine.

Evenings like this... they were rare, and even though Angela and Hodgins were dedicated babysitters – just like Booth and Brennan were for their boys – being a couple often paled compared to being parents.

However... they had made it. Together they had survived the three month colic, the first teeth. Brennan had made it through Lilly's baptism, even though she had held the baby in a vice-like grip, as the holy water had hit her head. Booth had suffered his first metaphorical heart-attack after their daughter had been exposed to the sight of a corpse for the very first time. They still worked together every now and then, solved crimes, caught murderers – but they didn't take it home anymore.

And even after all those years... she still moved him, and he could still rock her world. It was ordinary somehow, this life they had built for themselves, but for the scarred lonely souls they had been for so long, it could never be less than astonishing.

They finished their meal with quiet laughter and comfortable conversation. She was in the middle of writing another novel, and he enjoyed the course she had drawn for her characters immensely. He had been coaching Parker's hockey team since the beginning of the year and had a lot of stories about the dramas of twelve-year-old's to share. They were half-heartedly thinking about buying a new house or apartment. A few more rooms, a backyard would be nice, but both of them felt a strange attachment to her old place, their place. After all... it had been their first real home.

The night was still young when they left the restaurant, and the sand underneath their feet hadn't cooled down after the sun of the day. The ocean next to them was a dark mass of waves, and the salty wind raked through their hair, caressed their skin.

She was uncharacteristically quiet next to him, and he bumped her hip playfully.

"Care to share some more facts about this island? Or the consistency of the sand?"

"No."

"Missing Lilly?"

"Yes, but it's okay. I know that she's fine. _I'm _fine."

"That's good."

"Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that you've really managed to talk me into matrimony."

"Hey," he protested, "_you_ have been the one asking _me_."

"I know... still... it is so unlike me."

"Do you regret it?"

Stopping, she turned to him, and the moonlight illuminated her lovely face.

"Do I look like a woman in regret?"

His lips curved up in that special Booth smile.

"Not at all."

"Good. Besides, now I can say sentences like, 'Back off, he's my husband.'"

He chuckled, remembering one encounter with a flirty salesgirl not so long ago.

"Oh, I don't know, the baby on your hip did a pretty good job as well."

Brennan nodded in satisfaction.

"I knew that teaching her the word 'Daddy' had to be a wise move."

"She has your eyes."

"I know."

He let go of a dreamy sigh.

"It never fails to take my breath away when she looks at me with your eyes."

"She has your smile."

"Yeah, the Booth charming smile."

"It works."

"Oh damn, it does."

"Sometimes..."

Her voice trailed off, as she bit her lips.

"Yes?" he encouraged her, tapping her chin.

"Sometimes... I'm tempted to suggest trying it again. Another little girl. Or a boy with your eyes..."

"Another baby?" he whispered, and she shrugged.

"Maybe. But it scares me as well."

"I know," he murmured, burying his lips in her soft hair. "I guess we are kind of lucky that the first one just happened. Making the decision is hard somehow."

"But maybe... one day?"

"With you? Always. But, please, no frog armada the next time."

She giggled in his arms.

"That was rather unpleasant."

They resumed their walk, both of them lost in the same kind of musings, and when they reached their hut, he scooped her up in his arms to carry her over the threshold. She protested weakly, but a smile played around her lips. After two years with the alpha male, one had had to make peace with being carried around every now and then.

He kissed the smile off her face, and when he let her down in the living room, she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Tongues swept over each other, tasting rich red wine and familiarity, and he groaned deep in his throat, as her fingers played with the hair on his nape.

The bare skin of her arms was smooth underneath his fingers, and they traveled upwards until they reached the straps of her dress, brushing them over her shoulders. With a rush as soft as a butterfly's flap the dress slid down her body, landing as a soft puddle around her feet.

"I love this dress," he murmured, as his hands explored her exposed back, and she let go of that throaty laughter he loved so much.

"It's very convenient."

Her hands abandoned his neck, tracing his well-defined chest muscles before reaching their aim. She undid button and zipper in one deft move, and then his pants followed her dress. His shirt was next, and Brennan took her time to undo the buttons. Her skin was tingling with the urge to be pressed against his, and anticipation was building. She couldn't get enough of him, never. The smooth and firm feeling of his chest, the warmth of his strong arms around her, the breathtaking sensation of him moving inside of her. The sounds he made while she caressed his body, groans and moans and sighs mingling with sweet terms of endearment and her name.

"Bones..."

As always when he called her like that in this husky voice that betrayed his arousal, a rush of moisture and weakness hit her core, and she bit his shoulder softly.

His fingers found the clasp of her satiny bra, undoing it, and then they were pressed to each other skin to skin, his boxers and her panties the only barriers left. She opened her legs – just a few inches – and he met her with instinct and intimate knowledge. It was a perfect fit. Through cotton and lace she could feel his hardness, and he could feel her heat.

Lips found each other again, locked in that kind of kiss which leaves you both satisfied and thirsty, and then his hands slid into her panties, kneading her buttocks while pressing her harder into the aching bulge between his legs. She gasped into his mouth, and the familiar sound sent shivers down his spine.

His fingers hooked in her panties, he dropped onto his knees, taking the flimsy garment with him, and she lifted first one foot and then the other. His hands brushed over the satiny skin of her legs, while he peppered soft kisses along the insides of her thighs. He could smell her, this scent which was so very female and so her, and his lips brushed her short curls, lingering briefly on her sensitive flesh, as he traveled upwards again.

Her belly was flat but still soft, softer than it had been before Lilly, and his tongue explored the valley of her bellybutton, eliciting some giggles from her. With a smile he met the heavy globes of her breasts. Her breasts...

He had always been particularly fond of this part of her anatomy – hell, he was a man – but after witnessing the sweet intimacy of a mother nursing her child, his perspective had changed. It had taken some time before he had been able to claim them fully as "his" again, but while teasing her taut buds with his tongue and lips during this first night of their honeymoon, Booth didn't think about motherhood or breast milk.

All he could think about was his wife – his wife! – and making her feel _really_ good.

Her hands tugging at his head tore him out of his worship, and then it was her turn to free him out of his boxers.

Following his lead, she crouched down in front of him as well, taking the checkered garment with her. Face to face with his arousal, she took a deep breath, and pursing her lips, she showered the satiny hardness with featherlight kisses. He groaned somewhere above her, his hands tunneling in her hair, and, with a predatory smile, she opened her lips, sucking him in deeply without warning. His knees buckled, as the breath whooshed out of his lungs, and she swallowed him over and over again, her raspy tongue rubbing over his full length... until his breaths came erratic and his voice was nothing but an urgent plea.

Licking her lips, she released him, but before she was on her feet again, he had tugged her into his arms, lifting her. Unable to do anything else, she wrapped her legs around his hips, relying on him to steady them on their way to the bedroom.

They bumped into the door frame – of course – and when they fell onto the mattress, they were both laughing breathlessly.

"My husband is clumsy," she stated between giggles, and he poked her ribs.

"My wife is distracting."

"My husband is beautiful," she added, and this time her voice was full of sincerity.

"As is my wife."

In the moonlit room chocolate brown eyes met pale blue ones, and then his lips fell onto her rosy ones anew. He rolled on top of her, and her body beneath him opened for him. Strength under softness, softness under strength – it was all for him. Her arms around him cradled him safely, and when he nestled between her thighs, her legs wrapped themselves around his hips, encouraging him to join them.

And join them he did. His hand cupped the back of her thigh lovingly, as he entered her, and for the hundredth or thousandth time he found a home in the warm snugness of her body. His sigh mingled with hers, and her head fell back onto the pillow, her dark hair providing a breathtakingly beautiful contrast to the white sheet.

While moving inside of her, he thought about the first time he had made love to her and every single time in between, acknowledged the perfect rightness, wanted to release a triumphant cry... wanted and felt and thought so much until everything but the sheer moment vanished.

Her moans encouraged him to move faster, and cupping her face, he thrust into her body.

"I love you, Bones," he whispered, and she nodded wildly, trying to transport with her gaze what she could impossibly find the words to say in the bliss of the moment.

The Caribbean night was their witness, as she came apart around him, as he exploded in her, and long after the trembles had subsided, she lay curled around him, the wind caressing their cooling bodies.

She was Dr. Temperance Brennan. She was his wife. Mother of his daughter.

Nothing else mattered.

To be continued...

_Okay, lovely readers, my smutty and mushy self ran away with me and ruined the epilogue I had planned. I guess I have to add one more teeny-weeny chapter. The next one will be the epilogue. For real._


	21. An Epilogue

_This is the end... beautiful friend the end..._

XXI. An Epilogue

It was raining, as the plane landed in Washington D.C. After one week under the bright sun of Martinique – sand underneath her feet, the ocean wind tousling her hair – Temperance Brennan's usually very white skin had gained a light caramel shade.

Tiny freckles decorated her cute nose, and her husband had spent the better part of the last week kissing every single one of them. Seeley Booth himself sported an enviably healthy tan, and a bright grin was plastered on his handsome face, as he grabbed their suitcase in one swift move.

Tomorrow it would be business as usual, victims, suspects, arrests for him; bones, science and writing for her, but as they walked through the busy airport hall, he allowed himself one last moment full of honeymoon bliss.

A wonderful week had come to an end. Sunbathing, lovemaking, excellent food, lovemaking, swimming in the ocean and... even more lovemaking. 'I guess it ain't called honeymoon for nothing,' he thought.

He took her hand with his free one, as they walked towards the arrival area, and Brennan couldn't really make up her mind what was the best – the past week, the immediate future with their family waiting behind the next door or just this very moment full of him, gleeful anticipation and lovely memories.

They didn't talk because sometimes words are just overrated, but she squeezed his hand harder and could feel him squeezing hers in return. Temperance Brennan had never been the hand-holding kind of woman... but then again, she had neither been the marrying nor family kind of woman either. Maybe she was just a Seeley Booth kind of woman.

Her own sentimental track of thoughts made her laugh, and he turned his head to her with a questioning glance.

"Nothing," she reassured him.

Then they were past the doors, and both of them spotted the tall, brunette woman with the toddler on her hip immediately. The little girl's face lit up like the sun itself, and she squirmed in her godmother's arms. Angela let her down, and, ignoring the sea of people around her, Lilly stumbled on wobbly legs in the direction of her parents.

Booth and Brennan watched their daughter with pride eyes.

"Isn't she adorable?"

"I believe she has grown in the past week."

"I'm torn between the desire to run towards her and the wish to observe her rather graceful approaching."

Lilly chose that moment to tumble and landed on her bottom with that frown of disapproval on her face which reminded Booth so much of her mother. Setting herself in motion, Brennan closed the distance to her child and picked her up in one swift move. Lilly squealed and slapped her mother's cheeks with her paddies while sweet kisses were plastered on her baby face.

"I've missed you so much," Brennan murmured into feathery dark hair, inhaling the oh-so familiar scent of her daughter.

Then Booth was by their side, and Lilly outstretched her arms. Booth plucked her out of her mother's embrace and threw her into the air.

"Lilly doll. Look at you."

"Daddy," the girl squealed between giggles.

"Yeah. Daddy's back."

"Mommy," Lilly added, pointing towards Brennan.

"Mommy's back as well."

Angela watched the reunion with a benevolent smile, and if she hadn't had her own wonderful husband, her own perfect children at home, she might have turned green with envy and longing. They were so beautiful together, and after all those years of suppressed feelings, yearnings and pain, it was still such a relief to see them as a family. It was like spring after a very long and cold winter. Like a piece of art which brushstrokes and dashes finally made sense. Just… better somehow.

Brennan turned towards her with a warm shimmer in her eyes, and Angela closed the distance to her best friend, pulling her into a girl hug.

"It's good to see you, Brenn."

"Ange... Thanks for taking care of her."

"Always. You know that we love her."

Lilly swapped arms once again, and then it was Booth hugging Angela.

"Hello Mr. Honeymoon. You look quite relaxed. I hope you got a lot of... _rest_."

Booth chuckled.

"Believe me, we did."

"I have Lilly's stuff in the car and can drive you straight home if you like."

Brennan nodded while little fingers played with her necklace.

"Home sounds nice."

Lifting her head, Lilly looked at her parents with big blue eyes.

"Home," she repeated, and even though it sounded more like "oam", Booth and Brennan looked at their girl in delight.

"A new word," she smiled.

"A good one," he added.

His lips curved up in a big, fat grin, and he wrapped his arm around his wife's neck to pull her close for a quick kiss. The baby between them was crushed a little bit, but she didn't even protest.

Lilly Brennan-Booth was used to the sight of her parents kissing.

She didn't know it any other way.

The End.

_I've done it. You've done it. We've done it. And even though finishing a story is kind of sad somehow, I'm so full of love right now. Just saw the first s07 clip. Jeffersonian maternity coveralls are not flattering, but Booth and Brennan were so them. I have flowers on my table. My man is sitting next to me with a cute face. And tomorrow is my birthday. Life is good. What now? This has been my hiatus story, the big one, the one I believe in. Nonetheless, we still have some more weeks to survive. There are a few more ideas in my head, and I will keep on writing. I just have to. Love you all :-)_


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